daily reflection: thinking of others

Our very lives, as ex-problem drinkers, depend upon our constant thought of others and how we may help meet their needs.

— ALCOHOLICS ANONYMOUS, p. 20

Thinking of others has never come easily to me. Even when I try to work the A.A. program, I’m prone to thinking, “How do I feel today. Am I happy, joyous and free?

“The program tells me that my thoughts must reach out to those around me: “Would that newcomer welcome someone to talk to?” “That person looks a little unhappy today, maybe I could cheer him up.” It is only when I forget my problems, and reach out to contribute something to others that I can begin to attain the serenity and God-consciousness I seek.

repost: dharmaholic — friends and lovers pt 2

The five “action” points in Mike’s following blog post are at once provocative and so chewy they’re almost grisly… but in a good way. Lots to ponder in each point, but one I kept being drawn back to was an insight the Australian Buddhist seemed to casually ponder as an afterthought:

There is work for me to do around grief and trauma and Dad and Mum but it has to lead me to think more broadly about the consequences of relationships of all types. Sometimes we never get to say goodbye.

A significant part of my own healing was being called home to care for my 90-year-old cancer-ridden father for several weeks before he died back in 2007. Even though much of the profound turmoil between us ended  well before Joy and I moved far away from them back in 1989, I had always carried the unspoken burden of unspoken, unresolved issues going back to my teens.

As you have likely guessed, Dad died without my having the long-sought luxury of leveling the playing field I imagined we had been on all those years. It was 1:30 a.m. in the middle of a warm San Diego September night. I was drinking yet another beer, holding his hand while patiently sitting next to the hospice bed he had been inhabiting for weeks on end. And he just… quietly slipped away. With a very tranquil look on his face. I sat there for 10 minutes still holding his hand, looking at him resting peacefully, and finally said, “Well, Dad. That is so like you to beat last call.”

It was on the flight back to Indy that God nudged me to let me know my healing was in caring for my father; my healing was in feeding and bathing and cleaning up after him, keeping him comfortable and simply being present to him. It was God’s place to level my anticipated playing field. That became a much more profound truth for me in 2010 when I sobered up in A.A.

Anyway, read the second of three installments from dharmaholic. The first one is here.

daily reflection: a common solution

The tremendous fact for every one of us is that we have discovered a common solution. We have a way out on which we can absolutely agree, and upon which we can join in brotherly and harmonious action. This is the great news this book carries to those who suffer from alcoholism.

— ALCOHOLICS ANONYMOUS, p. 17

The most far-reaching Twelfth Step work was the publication of our Big Book, Alcoholics Anonymous. Few can equal that book for carrying the message. My idea is to get out of myself and simply do what I can. Even if I haven’t been asked to sponsor and my phone rarely rings, I am still able to do Twelfth Step work. I get involved in “brotherly and harmonious action.” At meetings I show up early to greet people and to help set up, and to share my experience, strength and hope. I also do what I can with service work. My Higher Power gives me exactly what He wants me to do at any given point in my recovery and, if I let Him, my willingness will bring Twelfth Step work automatically.

repost: victoria b. — the dangers of oxycodone

Opioids in America The Opioid Crisis has had harsh effects on the country in recent years. According to White House data, in 2016 more than two million Americans had an addiction to prescription or illicit opioids, that same year nearly 175 Americans died from a drug overdose every day, with many of those attributed to […]

via 800 Recovery Hub Blog The Dangers of Oxycodone

repost: storm in a wine glass — fresh out of hell

During those first few weeks and months of sobriety, I quite frequently had dreams that I was drinking again. I was so relieved and grateful to get away that I think it was my subconscious poking me by way of saying oh, check this out, here’s a nightmare to remind you. Every time I woke […]

via Storm in a Wine Glass  Fresh Out of Hell