Preceptor

I learned a new word today. Preceptor. It shouldn't be a new word. Know why? Because it's in Overeaters Anonymous, 2nd edition. The Acknowledgement begins:

This book would not be possible without our great preceptor, Alcoholics Anonymous. 

My dictionary simply defines the word as "a teacher or instructor." Obviously, though, the word is derived from "precept" which gives a deeper understanding of the role of a preceptor. Merriam-Webster says a precept is:

1. : a command or principle intended especially as a general rule of action
2. : an order issued by legally constituted authority to a subordinate official

So, the teacher, the giver of precepts, the educator is the general rule of action, or as the Big Book says, the basic textbook, the lesson plan, the curriculum of the Twelve Steps. "Legally constituted authority" rings of the lesson on pages 60 and 61 talking about, "Most people try to live by self-propulsion," and "if only people would do as he wished, the show would be great."

I'm not in charge. My only job is to turn my life and my will over to the care of God as I understand him and to seek only to know His will for my life and to have the power to carry that out.

May the Twelve Steps be my preceptor today, this day, the only day I have.

Awesome Reading this Morning

No, it's not OA material. It's not even Al-Anon approved, but it is Al-Anon. And Powerful.

"Sobriety means getting rid of the bottle and the baby." Those words are from a physician who directs a fine alcoholism treatment center. What does he mean? The still-sick alcoholic not only has a problem with alcohol, but with immaturity -- to the point of infantile social behavior.

One of the ways this irresponsibility manifests itself is in the alcoholic's high degree of selfishness -- an infantile narcissism which means that, after the booze, he is the important one. It's a long way down the line before anyone or anything else is truly important, except that which helps him get momentarily puffed up -- serving his illusions of grandeur. This is not an exaggeration of facts, merely a statement of them as they are, part and parcel of his disease....

Unfortunately, the facts don't seem to indicate he's going to, on his own, have a great change of heart and become a caring person. The facts say he is a very sick man, not just occasionally, but always, as long as he drinks -- and that his disease is a progressive one. This means he will most definitely be getting sicker if he does not get well. It further means he will be in even worse shape to help you, should you become ill. 

There is one paradoxical fact that could, and would improve the situation  for you. The sooner you stop centering your life around him; the sooner you give his whole disease back to him; the sooner you let go of his problem; the better chances will be that he will treat you well!

Getting them Sober, Vol. 1 by Toby Rice Drews, pages 91-92

I think the sample I copied is legal under the fair use doctrine. But even if it exceeds those lengths, I need to write it here for me and for others. The book is copyright 1980 and out of print, but it's worth getting it and the sequels on EBay or any way you can. 

So, why does this Al-Anon advice ring true to me? Let me count the ways:

1. As soon as I'm back in my disease, I'm acting childishly and the center of my universe is ME.
2. Those I care for who are not in the program who belittle me and disdain me are acting this out -- they're not intentionally saying I mean nothing, they just don't see it, don't get down that far on the list very often if at all. 
3. When I have spent my life as a people-pleaser, being the childish person who picks wildflowers and brings them inside fifty times because the first time they got a smile and a kind word, persisting in the behaviors that are supposed to please, expected to create a smile -- just don't. And never will.
4. My creating a distance, stopping feeling like "The Help" not only isn't selfish, it's beneficial to the other -- when and if the "other" gets over his pity-party.
5. And that last sentence. The last phase. What I've spent decades trying for. I've been trying all wrong.
6. That's the big one. That's the thing I cannot change. God, give me wisdom! And serenity!

Commitment

I have a couple of blogs - this and another in my name. And I've made a commitment to a third, DAILY. That's a big step. But it's something I need to do. It does commit me to recovery writing, though the other author and I have a stash of material we can start with. That will run out, though. The other blog can be found two ways: www.RecoveryDailyDose.blogspot.com or www.EagleWingsPress.com/daily.

I guess where I am right now is the recovery saying, "I can't, God can, I think I'll let him." I've got so many irons in the fire, how DARE I do this? But it feels right, and I didn't think I could do what I'm doing right now. Speaking of that, I have a major commitment I said I would do last night, and I came to the office this morning intending to do it first thing. But it's an hour before noon, and I will do it. Now. The big things are so much more intimidating before we jump in. And that's what commitment is, whether it's to blog or to write or to chair a major undertaking. And I'm committed. So I'm jumping in. Come along for the ride!

Blockage

I sat down this morning, the end of April, and accidentally clicked "Edit Posts" rather than create. I found this from two months ago that evidently I never posted. So I'll read and finalize or toss it. Let's see what happens...

Pipes get blocked. Blood vessels get blocked. Recovery gets blocked.

Though our decision was a vital and crucial step, it could have little permanent effect unless at once folowed by a strenuous effort to face, and to be rid of, the things in ourselves which had been blocking us. (Alcoholics Anonymous, page 64)

We hope you are convinced now that God can remove whatever self-will has blocked you off from Him. (Alcoholics Anonymous, page 71)

How does Recovery get unblocked? How do pipes and blood vessels get unblocked? A Roto-Rooter. Angioplasty. "If you have already made a decision, and an inventory of your grosser handicaps, you have made a good beginning. That being so you have swallowed and digested some big chunks of truth about yourself." (Alcoholics Anonymous, page 71.) Steps Three and Four - for a start.

Obviously I would have elaborated further. But at this point I don't see the need. I'll hit "publish" and come back and write what's on my mind this morning.

Decision time

I'm working on the new book, A Cloud of Witnesses - Two Big Books and Us by Barbara B. Rollins with OAStepper. It's decision time, cutting out time. And my words are my children, hard to let go of. These didn't make the cut, so I'm sharing them with you now. May God be with you and may these words go where they need to be today.

Hebrews 1:13-14

And God never said to any of the angels,

“Sit in the place of honor at my right hand


until I humble your enemies,


making them a footstool under your feet.”

Therefore, angels are only servants—spirits sent to care for people who will inherit salvation. (NLT)

Angels are servants,

only servants,

like second class,

like riffraff.

Guardian angels,

a real angel,

as sweet as an angel,

gone to be with the angels,

with the riffraff? With servants?

Perspective’s everything.

When speaking of one higher than angels,

how high they are

fades in importance.

I’m okay. I’m fine.

Even if I’m lesser, riffraff when contrasted

that doesn’t mean I’m not fine, high enough

not real.

God, enough of my ladder,

folks higher, lower,

none on my rung.

I’m lonely. Enough with

knowing about, not knowing.

Hebrews 2:14

Because God’s children are human beings—made of flesh and blood—the Son also became flesh and blood. For only as a human being could he die, and only by dying could he break the power of the devil, who had the power of death. (NLT)

Alcoholics Anonymous, Page 146

After your man has gone along without drinking for a few months, you may be able to make use of his services with other employees who are giving you the alcoholic run-around… An alcoholic who has recovered, but holds a relatively unimportant job, can talk to a man with a better position. Being on a radically different basis of life, he will never take advantage of the situation.

Same, same;

different, different.

Same, different,

different same.

Some differences matter – big time.

Others flavor.

You tell me it’s fine to have just a bit,

I’ve earned it, I’ve done so well.

You’ve no idea what a snippet would do,

how total debacle would follow.

You have to be like me

to understand me,

to gain my trust in my insanity

with my recovery.

God, thanks for putting people in my life

who’ve walked this path,

who lead me to recovery and to you.

Incremental Growth

I remember, years ago, when we had someone plant the pine tree. We moved here in 1994, and sometime - I'm reasonably sure within a year - Biff planted a twig he called a pine tree. I don't think it was a foot tall, and I know for certain some of the weeds I mowed down today were larger that that tree. But while mowing I was startled by a sight - a pine cone. From that tree. It's really been a tree for a long time, but the cones I've noticed before were anemic little things. This one wasn't! When did that happen?
I've become aware of changes in me. Not changes happening, but realized transfigurations. The very act of mowing was one. Previously, I would have tentatively proposed the project to hubby, not wanting to offend, having an aversion of taking a task he might possibly have hired out or planned to do soon. And I know my bringing it up would have been, in some frames of mind, asking permission to make a decision, and in others, trying to go the extra mile to earn praise or recognition or acknowledgment. But I did it because I'd grown embarrassed by the yard. Even the house next door, normally by a totally derelict appearance making ours shine as a potential show home, boasted a more manicured lawn.

In other situations, with other people, I'm asserting a leadership role, no longer anxious to avoid offending at all costs some possible idea, unexpressed, obscure, and - truth be told - unlikely to occur in anyone's imagination but my fertile garden of what-ifs.

As to abstinence, after the initial year of pink-cloud eating, emotions roiled, and old habits inched their way back in. Abstinence from early 2008 until early 2011 was the white-knuckle variety, something I'm as good at now as I was all those years from age 13 to almost 60 which I was on a "diet" - steadily gaining most years, reaching that awful 300 pounds on a doctor's scales. I worked with my sponsor, and she pointed out a pattern I hadn't detected. I'd do pretty darned good white-knuckling it for a month. Then the old "reward due" attitude would butt in, and for a few days nobody would have seen my eating as having any redeeming qualities. Remorse came quickly, especially as the depredation grew with subsequent slipping periods, and another month would begin. I didn't gain substantial weight back, was truly on a food plan many more days than not, but self-esteem was a word in the dictionary, nothing with which I was even slightly acquainted.

Then something happened. I didn't know it at the time - no "scales... fell from my eyes," no significance "burst upon me." Instead, it was a "different footing," "roots in a new soil." (Quotes from page 12, Alcoholics Anonymous.) But some time in late January, I got it. I found out how to surrender, how to let go. I learned there's no effort in abstinence, just accepting the rules laid down for me by a benevolent friend whose knowledge and insight know no bounds. My roots are firmly planted in rich loam. Thank God!

Restless, Irritable, Discontented

I'm scheduled to speak at a meeting tomorrow. While I know it's not a time to prepare a speech (meaning to figure out how to show myself in the best light) not to have thought about it, to have invited God's input for preparation, is wrong. I don't know where the collection of my pictures I had got off to, so I printed out some more today. It's good to look at them. And it's good to see the others, the ones during recovery, that show the distance I still have to go toward a normal body weight. My abstinence has been good since January, and the scales and clothes show it, but not fast enough for me ego, which, of course, needs to be dumped.

What do I have to share? I do have recovery that's awesome, and I am in the midst of taking quantum leaps forward in recovery. That's the reason for the subject I wrote for this post - yesterday. It's been my state all week. The reason, as I understand it, is the growth itself. I'm addicted to a person, just as much as I am to food, to compulsive overeating. I've had him in the role of my higher power for years and years and decades. At this point I'm trying to move him out of that slot so God has room to take it. I can't move him out, but I can avoid worshipping at the pagan shrine. How can I do that? My current course is to utilize the mantra, "Say what you mean, mean what you say, and don't say it mean." Just this evening, he asked me if I had put an orange in the refrigerator, and I said no. So he suggested I put it in the freezer. Then later he asked for it and only then did I realize he had intended the orange sodas he bought, not a piece of fruit. His anger at my doing the wrong thing when he could easily - as easily as I could - have placed it there and gotten it out was not fair - as if that had ever made a difference in our relationship. Yet he's bitter at me for not doing it right. I thought it was an unusual request. And yes, I could have figured it out - I finally did. But in the past I would have bought into the guilt he threw at me. It's not my guilt. We went further, with him criticizing my life, my not staying in his presence, and that only, all day every day. I sit here with the fear still there, but not the recrimination. I'm finally growing up, finally realizing the next rung of recovery and delivered promises. But it's not fun, at all!

For Today this morning said, ‎"It is not easy to risk failure in plain view of those who wait smugly on the sidelines. To be thought foolish or insane could well start an avalanche of negative self-judgments. But as I grow, I become more willing to venture out of my cocoon." (p. 99) I did. I ventured out of my cocoon. A little. I'll move more tomorrow, and each day, one day at a time.

And yes, I'm restless, irritable, and discontented. It comes from feeling my feelings, from not denying them. It results when I realize what I've missed out on for so many years, in so many different ways. Affection, acceptance, respect, attraction, affirmation, confidence, confiding. Trust. I'm grieving for a life that could have been, but I have to offer the hard-won understanding that each of us is responsible for our own recovery, for our own life. Nothing I could do would be good enough, would elicit the acceptance I crave. Not from a broken person. But an unbroken God and a fellowship of sick people, recovering from insanity like mine, can fill me so full of acceptance, I find surfeit at last.