February 1, 2006


  I want to serve you up a portion of my daily online devotional from today:
  Some of us have the idea that our life can't make much of a difference. "What can one person do?" we sometimes think. This reminds me of the man who, when walking along the beach, kept picking up starfish that had been washed ashore. There must have been thousands of them. One by one he picked them up and threw each back into the ocean.
A stranger watching said to the man, "Why are you doing that? There are so many starfish on the beach. What you are doing makes no difference."

  "Makes a difference to that one," the man replied as he threw another starfish back into the ocean.  As Edward Everett Hale said, "I am only one, but I am one. I can't do everything, but I can do something. The something I ought to do, I can do. And by the grace of God, I will."

  Suggested prayer: "Dear God, I'm available. Please help and use me to make a difference in somebody's life today.

  Man! That's awesome! Here we are out here in this ocean called life, sailing along--just a dot on the endless sea. Sometimes the waters are rough and sometimes we have smooth sailing. Sometimes the wind is knocked right out of our sails, and we feel useless once again--just drifting along with no apparent purpose or direction. I felt that way very recently. But, I gotta tell you--now that my sails are catching the ocean's breezes once more, I can look back and see how my little storm brought me closer to God, and how much more grateful I am for the Wise and Windy Ones who kept me afloat during the squall.

  I feel like one of those starfish who made it back into the sea because one man wanted to make a difference.

  Today I'm grateful I didn't dry up on the beach.

February 2, 2006



  My grandson, Miles Lighthorse Campbell, is 4 months old today. Since my daughter and son-in-law moved here in August, just 2 doors down, it has been an E-ticket ride for all of us. The family harmony I dreamed of (and wrote the mental script for) hit some sour notes. The house plans have been delayed repeatedly and the kids are still living in that 32 foot travel trailer. The condensation problem gifts them with furry window tracks and sinus problems and the wiring doesn't allow for the heater and microwave to run at the same time. I'll spare you the sad and stinky septic tank saga. You don't even want to know.

  However, we're still a family and the song of joy, though muffled at times, can still be heard and felt in our hearts. I am quite sure it couldn't have been done without AA and the loving souls that help hold me together so I can hold my dream together.

  The kids are moving next month. They can't live in the trailer for another 6 months or longer. We have no idea when the house will be completed. They found a house about 40 minutes away to live in until theirs is finished.

  Here's the amazing and incredible part--I took the news today without sadness or anger. I had a wonderful feeling of calm--no pounding heart, no churning bowels, no histrionics. I had an Aha moment. This, my dear Nan--this feeling you feel, the one you never felt when you drank--hot dog and hallelujah....it's acceptance!

  God granted me the serenity to accept this thing I cannot change. He granted me the courage to change the way I would have reacted in the past, and the wisdom to know the difference.

  Even when that little demon fear tried to tell me they might not come back, I silenced him too. Shhhhhhh--you hush up fear; you are nothing but false evidence appearing real and I'm not buying what you're selling today.

  Today I am grateful for the serenity prayer.

February 3, 2006


  What a beautiful day it was today. The spring-like weather is starting to fit me like a glove. I got out and did some weeding today and savored the scent of the sages while doing so. One of the newbies I planted in October has grown to three times its size and is covered in blooms--sweet, little, lavender, bell-shaped flowers with tiny clappers! I love it!

  Of course, it's only early February so it may not last. Just as soon as I get to loving it too much, we'll have a real winter, not this pseudo-winter we've been having. Sheesh---I've only burned 4 or 5 fires in the fireplace so far--I've usually burned a cord of wood by now.

  Where oh where am I going with all this? Heck if I know--I'm just so grateful to be alive, sober, serene, and sane that I'd consider a dirt sandwich a gourmet meal right now. I want to sing Zippity DooDah, Zippity Yay--My oh My what a wonderful day! This sober life does get better--just like they said it would. They really did love me until I could love myself. It truly does work if you work it and keep coming back. I thought all that repetitious chanting was just for show in the early days--The Stepford Alcoholics. I promised myself I'd never utter those corny mottos to another soul.

  Shoot--I say them every day now! That'll teach me to never say never!
Easy does it now--just keep it simple, live and let live, and don't take yourself too seriously.

  Today I am grateful for Rule 62.

 

February 4, 2005


  "Burn the idea into the consciousness of every man that he can get well regardless of anyone. The only condition is that he trust in God and clean house."

  "Let no alcoholic say he cannot recover unless he has his family back."

  I think I'll let you find those instead of telling you the page number--that is, if you're interested. It's my sneaky way of getting you into the Big Book.

  Wow! How many of you knew of, or remembered those excerpts? I had forgotten them--on purpose maybe. You remember that I blamed my husband for everything that ever went wrong in our marriage and my life. It was his fault I drank, don't you know? And by golly, it would be his fault if I couldn't stop or stay stopped too if I had anything to say about it.

  Well, Fiddlesticks! Then I had to go and read that! What a shocker to realize I couldn't use him as an excuse for anything anymore. Before I was enlightened, I used to be so melodramatic in the early days of my sobriety. I'd announce with exasperation and angst that I was the dynamite and he was my fuse and I just couldn't do this recovery thing if HE wasn't going to change his behavior.

  Hoo Boy! My sponsor set me straight on that one. I soon learned that my sobriety was up to ME, nobody else. It was time for me to take responsibility for my behavior--past and present. I remember she told me once that my husband had not sat on my chest and poured whiskey down my throat so I could just stop blaming him for my drinking and all the damage it caused. Yikes!

  She was right though--100%. Like George Washington, I cannot tell a lie, nor can I blame anyone for my drinking and I did a lot more damage than chopping down one little old cherry tree.

  Today I am grateful for accountability.

February 5, 2006


  Mercy, here it is after midnight, but I have come to need this daily journal to review my day and hopefully "sleep in good conscience."

  My husband and I just returned from our 2nd day of bluegrass heaven. A festival came to town and we bought 3-day passes. Oh that music moves my soul! It is so earthy and passionate. The fans are like old friends and neighbors. I will return in the morning at 8 for the church service and a couple of hours of bluegrass gospel. My heart is alive with anticipation already.

  It was a very good day. A good day to be sober, a good day to have ears to hear, eyes to see, and feet to tap.

  Today I am grateful for fiddles, banjos, guitars, and harmonious vocals.

February 6, 2006


  "Cessation of drinking is but the first step away from a highly strained, abnormal condition. A doctor said to us, 'Years of living with an alcoholic is almost sure to make any wife or child neurotic.' The entire family is, to some extent, ill." (Big Book, page 122)

  First, you can substitute husband, siblings, boyfriend, girlfriend, or a number of other people for wife or child. We created a ton of neurotic people with our drinking, including ourselves.

  The paragraph continues: "Let families realize, as they start their journey, that all will not be fair weather."

  I don't know about your families, but in my case there was no "they." I embarked upon this journey alone. It has taken several years for certain members of my family to join me on this journey because they still have the neuroses to contend with. They are on their own journeys. We had to split off when the road forked, but I have faith we will meet up down the line. I feel in my heart we all have the same destination in sight.

  In my early sobriety, the people I had hurt the most didn't want to hear about AA. They resented my newfound happiness and hope. And I reciprocated by being resentful of them for being resentful. If I had it to do over, I would have given them more time and space to heal and forgive but I can't undo anything. I can only do today.

  I'm just reflecting--I'm not complaining, nor am I sad or bummed about anything. I had a wonderful weekend. The gospel portion of the bluegrass festival this morning was awesome. My spirit soared and my heart was filled. Then it was on to Hallmark where my overflowing heart was infused with more love and soul soaring.

  I am brimming with gratitude today. I'm grateful for all the blessings bestowed upon me. I have a home, car, clothes, food, family,friends, laughter, cats, dogs, and so much more. Sobriety has given me God, and He has given me a glorious life.
 

February 7, 2006

   Congratulations to Casey for picking up a 9 month chip at the meeting today. Hip Hip Hooray!

  I see myself in her when I was that age. I needed love and nurturing--not just from caring women, but from myself--for myself. I have mused before about my mother and how she was not demonstrative with love. There was no hugging, kissing, or "I love you's" in my childhood or beyond. I think every child needs that human touch--that tender nurturing. I also believe if we don't get it, that deprivation leads to emotional emptiness. For me, I tried to fill that space with alcohol. I mean, if you're not even good enough to be loved my your own mother, there must be something wrong with you.

  Thank God I know better now. I have learned in AA that it wasn't me and it wasn't my fault or failing. That lonely, sad, little girl in me has received approval and acceptance from the fellowship. She has been hugged, kissed, and told repeatedly she is loved. It's never too late for that.

Today I am grateful I'm being raised by the best mothers and sisters sobriety can buy.

February 8, 2006


  Step 12---Wowie Zowie! We read the entire chapter this morning in the 12 and 12 at our meeting. That is one awesome bit of text and I suggest to anyone who hasn't perused it thoroughly to do so now, no matter how much time you have.

  It begins by summing up the first 11 Steps, then with no holds barred and no punches pulled, we are instructed how to carry the message, how not to carry the message, and finally we are told that a study was conducted by psychologists and doctors who concluded that the alcoholics they studied were "childish, emotionally sensitive, and grandiose." The chapter concludes with suggestions on how to remedy those defective traits and "live usefully and walk humbly under the grace of God." It's powerful, folks.

  We have to be team players in this thing or we're not going to be winners in this game of life. There can be no superstars or celebrities. You can join the team or you can sit on the sidelines--it's your choice. We don't need officials or umpires--we need players who are willing to do their part. Let's suit up, show up, and win.

  Today I am grateful I'm out of the penalty box and in the game.

February 9, 2006


  I want to tell you a story about an average-sized woman with a super-sized ego. She was 29 days sober and feeling pretty darn important in the AA fellowship. She had overcome her fear of sharing and was ready to make a big impression on her listening audience by wowing them with the most entertaining, profound, heartwarming share ever shared in the rooms of AA. So, she sat outside in her lawn chair that night and wrote her Oscar-worthy acceptance speech, which she would oh so eloquently grace everyone with the following day. Man! It was brilliant--at least she thought so.

  The next day, she went to her meeting, all puffed up with pride and ego. She proudly took her chip and sat down to await her big moment. Others shared and the clock ticked--and ticked--and ticked. She continued to rehearse the speech in her mind--not even hearing what others were sharing. She kept glancing at the clock--omigosh, time was running out. Then, horror of horrors, the meeting was over and she had not been chosen.

  Driving home she alternated between extreme self-pity and a festering resentment. Why, the nerve of that leader--how dare he ignore her? OH! The injustice of it all--she was livid. She got home and fumed inside until smoke came from her ears. Then she called her sponsor to whine and got the answering machine. Grrrrrr--nobody cares, she thought. She wanted to stomp her feet and wail "it's not fair!" but there was nobody to listen (thank God).

  She was a sick, spoiled, self-absorbed brat--an egomaniac with an inferiority complex.
That was yours truly and today I am grateful for that lesson in humility. I have not rehearsed a share since then. If I am chosen to share, I speak about whatever is in my heart at the moment. I could care less whether I'm chosen to share or not and I listen with my heart to those who do speak. My ego has been greatly downsized and friends, that's a GOOD thing.

February 10, 2006


  "Then comes the acid test: can we stay sober, keep in emotional balance, and live to good purpose under all conditions?"
(12 and 12, page 88)

  Hmmmm--great food for thought. Can I? Well, let's look at the alternative. I could drink again and open the door to destruction, divorce, depression, destitution, and death--any or all of the aforementioned and not necessarily in that order. Nah, I think I'd rather stay sober, keep in emotional balance and live to good purpose under all conditions. That sounds like a lot more fun.

  The best thing about sobriety is knowing I have that choice. I have been offered a Golden Ticket to the chocolate factory or a one-way ticket to hell. Let me through the gate Willy Wonka--I'm comin' in and I want my Everlasting Gobstopper.

  Today I am grateful for choices.

February 11, 2006


  I was sharing at a meeting recently about how I cherished my first AA chip. I saw it as tangible evidence I could hold in my hand. The chip giver that night asked if anyone would like to take a surrender chip. I liked that--surrender. I love it when the newcomer chips are described that way at a meeting.

  I closed my trembling hand over that chip and clutched it throughout the meeting, peeking at it every once in a while to confirm I wasn't dreaming. I didn't want to let it go--it was like some kind of powerful talisman. I carried it in my bra for the first year--right over my heart and just below the tattoo of ill repute. You remember-- the deer I got in a drunken tantrum to protest my husband's first hunting trip?

  Funny when I think about it now--those two objects near my heart together--one representing a crazed, drunken, enraged fool and the other signifying hope and freedom. I still treasure that chip. It sits here on my computer desk, shiny and precious, just like the sliver of hope and light it gave me at that first meeting.

  I recalled something else about that night that I don't think I've mused on, but if I have, I plead temporary amnesia. My given name is Nancy, but when I took that surrender chip, I said "My name is Nan and I'm an alcoholic." It wasn't planned--at least not consciously. In retrospect, I think I wanted to leave as much of the old me behind as I could so perhaps that's why I chose to introduce myself as Nan. My Great Granny called me Nan and I loved her deeply, fiercely, and sweetly. My husband started calling me that when we were teenagers, back before life got so twisted and sad and I thought it was endearing.

  I don't know--maybe I associated that name with the good girl I once was and not the wretch I became. I am Nan, Happy Alcoholic and today I am grateful for my surrender chip.

February 12, 2006


  "Like a bird on a wire; like a drunk in a midnight choir; I have tried in my way to be free."

  Alas, yet another song that I mournfully sang in my drinking days--crooning along with Leonard Cohen and feeling like nobody in the world understood my pain and woe. What's that other old song? "Nobody knows the trouble I've seen; nobody knows my sorrow." Truly, that one could be the signature song for we alcoholics. I was drawn to all those haunting ballads that melodically lamented lost loves, broken hearts, and shattered dreams. Misery loves company, I reckon.

  Yes, there were other times when I got my curling iron out for a microphone and did my best Tina Turner strut while belting out all the rebel songs I could find to play. White Rabbit, Sweet Child O Mine, Witchy Woman, and anything by Bob Dylan--merciful heavens! By the time the "show" was over I had a Sid Vicious headache from all that screeching and whiskey.

  Today I'm attracted to feel-good songs like a cat is drawn to the uncovered butter dish on the table. I hunger for them.

February 13, 2006


  This is cool--I love feedback like this! I got this from Pat in response to yesterday's Muse. It's so nice to know I wasn't alone in my sob-song phase. Funny though, she didn't mention getting home and singing into her curling iron while doing the bump and grind--hmmmmmm.

  Working in bars, as closing time neared customers would play Ray Charles, "Born to lose"And of course, "Help me make it through the night". Gag me with a spoon.
I was right there with them, singing and feeling sorry for myself although I had a home and family to return to and no big problems. Well, except for alcoholism being practiced daily by my husband and myself. Perfect me.
Love, Pat

  We alcoholics have more in common than we realize, methinks. Speaking for myself, I can't tell you how much hearing stories of similar behavior has helped me. As a practicing alcoholic, I lived a double life and much of my "bizarre" behavior while drinking was a shameful secret I carried until I came to AA. I can assure you--that burden weighed heavy on my heart and soul.

  Oh, I know we are not encouraged to go into drunk-a-logues, and in theory, that's sound advice, but I would still be feeling like a bottom feeding pariah of society right now had I not heard the tales of drunken shenanigans and escapades from my alcoholic cohorts. My guilt-ridden heart has sighed many a sigh of relief when I've heard someone share about doing something I did. It could be something despicable, abhorrent, tragic, comical, immoral, unethical, stupid--you name it, we've done it, felt it, and interred it in our hearts for all eternity. Just hearing that I was not alone gave me permission to exhume that particular bone from where I had buried it in my heart and throw it out.

  Today I am grateful to those who have the courage to invite me into their closets to see the skeletons.


February 14, 2006


  I am restless. My marriage is not progressing as I hoped it would four years into my sobriety. Here's my dilemma: Should I stay or should I go now? (my Muses seem to be full of song lines these days don't they)

  Here's another that fits: Satin sheets to lie on, satin sheets to cry on--but still, I'm not happy can't you see? No, I have not found another man who can give me more than he can, I'm just discouraged and discontented in the fact that we seem to have grown farther apart SINCE I got sober. What's up with that?

  One day at a time--I have to take this relationship the same way I do my recovery. I constantly ask myself what I'm doing wrong, or what can I do differently? The answers don't come, or I'm not seeing or hearing them. Maybe the answer is "Wait." Maybe my own house is not in order yet. Maybe I have unrealistic expectations. Maybe his wounds need another decade or two to close. Maybe he's just as sick as I was. Maybe he's just a Big Turd. Maybe, Baby.

Today I am grateful for yesterday's daily reprieve.

UPDATE:

  My faithful and loving Muse readers, I am so grateful for all of you. Several of you wrote to me after the last Muse expressing concern and offering suggestions regarding my relationship with my husband and I appreciate them tremendously.

  Let me assure you, I am not sad for me, I am sad for him. If only I could make him see that there is a better way to live than to harbor resentment and hold on to past pain--that tolerance and kindness accomplish so much more than criticism and disharmony. If only.

  But I know this is not for me to control or fix. I accept that. The Serenity Prayer is etched upon my heart now for all eternity. My joy cannot hinge upon his mood, I know that. My joy must come from within ME. You see, when I drank, I didn't know that. I thought he was responsible for my misery as well as my happiness. I blamed him when I was unhappy and gave him all the credit when I was happy. Of course my happiness, which came in the form of flowers, money, new cars, trips, jewelry, and other monetary gifts from him--well that was always temporary. He tried to buy my sobriety for many years and I let him out of ignorance, denial, hopelessness, desperation, greed--everything but the truth. The truth is: I was then, am now, and always will be an alcoholic and all the money and gifts in the world wasn't going to change that. However, I played my role in the farce rather than admit the truth.

  I had my 30th anniversary 15 days after I came to AA. I didn't know how to feel about that. This year we will "celebrate" 35 and I don't know how I feel about that either. I don't know if we should throw a party or hold a wake each time our anniversary rolls around. My alcoholism has always been smack dab in the middle of our relationship. I don't know what was Real Life and what was a Fairy Tale. In essence, we are just now learning how to have a normal marriage (gee whiz--is there any such thing?)

  At any rate, I'm OK--truly I am. I'm living life on life's terms and I'm trusting God to guide me. I remain a Happy Alcoholic--I yam what I yam and that's all that I yam.

  Today I am grateful for Popeye--he's pretty darn cool in spite of that fickle Olive Oyl.

February 15, 2006


  Thank you all again for your marital counseling. I am grateful for all of it. Well, here's today's scoop. My daughter has made reservations for dinner--we are leaving in 15 minutes, so I'm going to zip through this tonight. The whole family is going, so my better half will be forced to forego his sulking and silent scorn tonight. He learned that from me you know--it's that imprinted alcoholism rearing its ugly head again. What a great student he was though....he has mastered the art. He hasn't spoken a word to me since Friday night when I had the audacity and unmitigated gall to disagree with him.

  You see, he is the King of his castle and when he says jump, I'm supposed to say "how high?" But as a child of God, I don't have to do that anymore and I am entitled to my own voice and my own opinions. I understand his frustration at having this "new, improved" wife that he can't berate or control any more, but dems da breaks, man.

  All is well in my world. Someday, I hope he decides to join me here.

  Today I am grateful for AA birthdays! What a fun day, full of laughter and silliness, tears and gratitude. Happy Birthday to the amazing and incredible Claudia D. (not to be confused with Claudia E, who is equally amazing and incredible)--ONE whole year! I'm glad I didn't miss it--I KNOW I would not have wanted to miss it.

February 16, 2006


  I was driving down the road this morning and stopped at a red light. Movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention and I spotted these two tubes--I don't know what else to call them--but anyway, they were atop the roof of a small auto dealership on the corner of the intersection. They were hollow wind socks of some kind, probably 8-10 feet tall, not too big around, and they had arms which were also hollow, with little streamers hanging off the ends. I should have prefaced this by telling you we are having a blustery day here today, a day that all wind socks must live for--especially these two.

  They had faces-- happy faces, but that wasn't the fun part. The wind was causing them to dip and gyrate as though they were doing some hoochie koochie dance--their arms flailed about and they smiled and dipped and shimmied and swayed to a magic tune carried on the wind, I suppose.

  A ho-hum day suddenly became a party. I laughed out loud at them--it was so cute and comical. Laughter feels good my friends, and it doesn't matter if you're in a crowd of people or sitting at a stop light alone. I felt like a carefree child, not the grouch of old. In my drinking days, I was hard-pressed to find anything to spontaneously belly laugh over. Laughter was rare and when it did occur, it had a false ring to it.

  Today I'm grateful I can laugh. I'm grateful it comes from a place in me that's pure, free, and innocent--a place that was once sad and barren, where the wind never blew and rooftop socks never did the jitterbug.

February 17, 2006


  WOW! Four annual birthdays today at the Spiritual Sisters Group. Congratulations to Irene with 2 years and Carol, Cecelia, and Susanne with 1 year of sobriety. That is awesome. What a great feeling to see alcoholics stay and open the gift that is offered. And what a gift sobriety is!

  I have loved watching these women who celebrated birthdays this week transform before my very eyes. They came in defeated and desperate, yet determined to find a better way to live life--a life without drugs or alcohol. They have blossomed and grown. They have tasted the ambrosia of the gods and found it pleasing to the palate. You can see that having ingested this life-giving nourishment AA provides, they are hungry for more.

  My hope for them is that they remain insatiable for sobriety and that they offer others just like them a sample of it. That is, after all, how it works. We give back what we have been so freely given. Bite for a bite, as my kids used to say to each other in restaurants when they envied what was on the other's plate.

  Today I am grateful to those who offered to let me dine with them.

February 18, 2006


  "The ego urges you to accomplish, while the soul merely asks you to enjoy the process." (Doreen Virtue)

  When I read that today, it moved me tremendously and I'm not even sure why--the reason remains elusive. Maybe more will be revealed. Funny though, it seems to be telling me the same thing my horoscope told me yesterday. It said: Your serious demeanor might be a bit much for others. Listen more and toss cynicism to the wayside. You'll find that a positive attitude can and will make a big difference. Listen Well.

  And then it finished with: Someone is quite hard on you. Tonight: Speak. So--what part of that do you suppose my mind grabbed onto? You got it--someone is quite hard on you. Hooray! said the little voice in my head--I am validated, vindicated, and victorious. My horoscope agrees that my husband is a big meanie. Did I speak? Nope--I was too busy being right instead of happy.

  I'm thinking it's time for some ego-puncturing on Wyatt St. Perhaps I'm not enjoying the process as I should be. Perhaps my demeanor IS too serious, and I have to admit, I have indulged in cynicism the last week. And maybe, just maybe, I have been telling myself and everyone else that my attitude is positive, hoping that if I say it enough, it will come true. (fake it til you make it?)

  The reality is, things are not going the way NAN wants them to. My actors are missing their cues and blowing their lines. They are re-writing MY script and I don't like it. Harumph!

  I reckon it's time to give up that day job and seek out some enjoyment for my soul. Today I won't write the script, I'll just play the part God gives me.

  I am grateful my son got the job he applied for in November (the wheels of the County Assessors office turn mighty slow).

I'm back in the saddle again--Hiyo Silver!

February 19, 2006


  My poor little grandson has a bad cold. Bless his heart--he looks so sad. It's as though he knows something isn't right but he can't do or say anything about it. My heart just aches for him. The kids were here this evening and he is one unhappy teeny camper. That feeling of helplessness is overwhelming.

big sigh

  Well, other than wishing I had a magic wand to make Miles feel better, I can't say I have any other complaints. Actually, there is one; I wish this cat of mine would get away from the front of my monitor and stop butting her head on my hands as I type to get my attention. I usually put her in the bedroom when the baby is here, so she is mighty glad to see me.

  This is the kitty who was lying near me when I came to on September 23rd, 2001. I was on the living room floor and when I opened my eyes I saw her. She was gazing at me with sadness and pity in her eyes--I wonder if she thought I wasn't going to wake up. I wonder if she wished there was something she could do to help me besides nuzzling me and purring in my ear.

   I think she's a lot happier puddy tat now. She hasn't looked at me with pain and sorrow since that morning.

  Today I am grateful for Scully the Cat. And now I shall give her my undivided attention.

February 20, 2006


  Alcoholism is a terrifying, gloomy, confusing, volatile, depressing, omnipotent, omnipresent disease. It is all-consuming and overwhelming. It holds you hostage; body, mind, and soul. The brain and flesh crave it while the spirit dies a little more with each drink, slipping deeper into that abyss of hopelessness. Sometimes, the mind takes a stand and says 'No more,' but the body won't listen--the physical craving must be quieted. Other times, the body is so ravaged it cries out for respite, but the mind convinces the flesh that it will feel better with just one little drink. You spend your days listening to the voices in your head and your nights fearing the monster under the bed.

  It was this way for me. I was trapped in a vicious vortex, spinning and whirling and being sucked into the black hole that would take me down to death-falling and flailing, desperate and drowning.

  Then one day as I lay broken; my soul gasping and fighting for life, a Divine hand lifted me from the angry swirling whirlpool of woe. That hand guided me through the doors of AA where I found hope, love, dignity, self-worth, and a reason to live: Me.

  Today I am grateful for Divine Intervention. 

February 21, 2006


  A question I've heard often from newcomers is: What is a dry drunk? Obviously, it's the opposite of a wet drunk, which is a drunk plus the liquid. A dry drunk is an alcoholic who exhibits drunken behavior with no booze coursing though their bloodstream. Whether you add the alcohol or not, both mixtures are recipes for disaster and unhappiness.

  The Big Book is our design for living, our nourishment--our cookbook. It shows us how to live a life of serenity and productiveness, and what ingredients are needed to create a feast. It also tells us what ingredients will sabotage the meal and leave us starving--back where we were when we came in hungry for something new and good to eat. Be generous with the love and tolerance and you will be full and satisfied. Add anger and resentment and you'll have a bad case of heartburn. Pour in some extra service and your daily bread will rise up high. Sprinkle dishonesty in the bowl and you will fall flat. You get the picture, so Bam! Kick it up a notch and bon appetit!

  Today I am grateful for the Food Network.

February 22, 2006


  Today is my son's 29th birthday. We had planned to take him out to dinner, but my grandson is sick, so I went and picked up food and everyone came here. My daughter, son-in-law, grandson, son, husband and I--like the song Ebony and Ivory, we were together in perfect harmony. Ahhhhhhh.

  I asked my son what kind of food he wanted and he chose Mediterranean. He gave me a list of his favorites: falafel, hommus, baba ghannooj, tabbooleh, dulmas, pita bread and baklava. I knew what the last two were but all the rest was Greek to me (har har)-- bad joke, but I'm not kidding.

  I learned that hommus is made with garbanzo beans (yuk and ugh) as is the falafel. Not my cup of tea, but it wasn't my birthday. I had chicken kabob and rice anyway (shish taouk on the menu).

  What was important was that we had an evening full of peace, harmony, joy, and love. My grandson, runny nose, watery eyes, wheezing cough and all, was still sweet as sugah. He pulled my face into his and gave me some delicious, wet kisses. It just doesn't get any better than that. Germs? What germs? He's too cute to have germs.

  I think the storm has passed that tossed me about in the marital ocean--thank you God. The Big Kahuna is speaking again and I don't see any smoke coming out of his ears. He was a nice guy tonight. When they say "this too shall pass," they're not just saying it to hear their brains rattle are they? The "they" of course, would be the AA Alumni. Where oh where would I be without them?

  Today I am grateful for my family.

February 23, 2006


  Dagnabbit---I was so focused on my son's birthday yesterday, I forgot to wish Gail M. a Happy 3rd Birthday. Yay for you M'Lady!

  My goodness, it has been birthday season these last few weeks, and that is so encouraging and heartwarming. It says that at least 6 women in the last 2 weeks kept coming back, and that's just in our little corner of the world here and at only one meeting.

  I have had my arms full of baby today--no complaints there, I can assure you. Right now he's wearing some teeny blue jeans, a green t-shirt, and a baseball cap. He looks like a little miniature boy. My daughter has been here doing laundry all day and Miles is the fringe benefit of that.

  I was reflecting earlier on what I would have been doing this time of day a little over 4 years ago. I would be hungover from my morning drunk and forcing myself to get through my evening chores and dinner preparation so I could start on my second drunk of the day. What a pointless, meaningless life. I was a hopeless hamster in a wheel.

  I am so grateful today that my days are full of activity, joy, fun, babies, friends, gardens, cuddly critters, and so much more.

  Now I shall return to the barefoot boy with cheeks of tan..........

February 24, 2006


  I've heard stories from daily drinkers, binge drinkers, and maintenance drinkers. I wasn't sure what category I fell into but now I know. I was a daily maintenance binge drinker. Whoa---I just had a wave of déjà vu--have I written this before? Golly--if I have, it must be that temporary amnesia again.

  The Big Book describes a type of alcoholic on page 21 that is puzzling, especially in the control department. It also says this alcoholic "does absurd, incredible, tragic things while drinking. He is a real Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. He is seldom mildly intoxicated. He is always more or less insanely drunk." There is more about how disgusting and dangerously antisocial he may become and how he is dishonest and selfish where liquor is concerned.

  That was me in a "nut" shell. I binge drank every day because I had no control once I started. I consumed insane amounts of whiskey in a few hours, puked, passed out, or both, then did it all again later that night--still hungover from the first drunk of the day. INSANITY is what that was, pure and simple, but I couldn't or wouldn't see it. Like I said yesterday, I was a hamster in a wheel and I could not get off.

  Puzzling is a good word to describe an alcoholic of that type, but it doesn't begin to describe the torture and anguish you feel when you're trapped in that nightmare.

  I'm so grateful to be off that wheel--mindlessly and endlessly running running running and being so very tired of it all.

  God stopped that little hamster one day and nudged her out of her spinning hell. Then he showed her that it's love that makes the world go 'round.

February 25, 2006


  Somebody very special is celebrating a birthday today. You know, there is a paragraph in the 12 and 12 concerning Step Nine where it asks the question "Do we lay the matter before our sponsor or spiritual advisor, earnestly asking God's help and guidance--meanwhile resolving to do the right thing when it becomes clear, cost what it may?" Then it says, "Of course, there is no pat answer which can fit all such dilemmas."

  Well, I am here to proclaim that we DO have the Pat answer in our Spiritual Sisters and Thank God groups. She is celebrating 32 years of sobriety. Happy Birthday Pat!!!!
Holey moley--she has been sober about the same amount of time I drank! What impresses me about her most is the fact that she remains fired up about her recovery and AA. She still attends four or 5 meetings a week, sponsors, does service work, and practices the principles of AA in all her affairs.

  I am drawn to women like Pat, Miz C, and Bernice L. All three of them have over 25 years in the program, yet they are still in those seats for all of us pitiful, broken, defeated creatures who stumble or crawl through the door today. They know that giving what they have away to us is vital for their own sobriety and happiness.

  "If you want what we have and are willing to go to any length to get it." Bill W. had alcoholics like them in mind when he wrote those words.

  Recently we read The Doctor's Opinion in our Big Book Study, and the realization of how fortunate we are to be living in this day and age hit me full force. At the time of the writing, Dr. Silkworth is referring to a hundred or so men who seemed to have found a solution to their alcohol problem. Imagine how frustrating and heartbreaking it must have been to live 100 years ago without AA, or even to be an alcoholic in the genesis of the program, when meetings and members were few.

  Society at large before AA must have been at a loss as to what to do with the outcasts, the drunks, the troublemakers, the pariahs in their midst. Chances are, we were labeled as lunatics or "bad" people. We were libationary lepers--scorned by society.

  I'm profoundly grateful that AA was conceived and born before I was.

  I am going out of town this weekend Muse readers and will return Monday night. Have a glorious, sober, serene time while I'm gone. In the words of our actor-turned-governor out here in California-- I'll be back.

February 28, 2006


  I'm going to be lazy tonight and use this excerpt from my daily online devotional in lieu of a full muse. It was a long and sleepless weekend for me and I look forward to sleeping in my own bed tonight. We got some really uncomfortable beds in Vegas......they didn't even have a proper mattress on them. Instead, there was a thin wanna-be camp style mattress on top of the box spring. Argh---add that to my husband's snoring and you have a tired Nan.

  This text really speaks for itself and even though it isn't specifically referring to alcoholics, it most assuredly is applicable to us.
Today I am grateful for my own bed.

  As the saying goes, "If we keep doing what we've always done, we'll keep getting what we've always got, and we'll keep feeling what we've always felt."

  " In other words, if we want to bring about change in our personal life, in our family, in our business, in our church, or in our nation, we need to look at things differently and be prepared to make changes—sometimes drastic changes! Because without change nothing ever changes! "

  I am also grateful for the changes in my life.