I hope you find OA

I woke this morning to AA speaker John A. Over a year sober, he lived in his car, wandering through casinos looking for pocket change, jobs, his next meal - and going to AA meetings, working with his sponsor, trying, trying, trying. After he cried through a gratitude meeting, a fellow he didn't like (why is that always the source of inspiration???) told him, "I hope you find AA." He went on to explain he knew John hadn't really taken the Third Step because, if he actually had made a decision to turn his life and his will over to God, he wouldn't be living like that - that God takes better care of his kids than that. John goes on to say he had believed there was his time and God's time and he was tired waiting for God's time, but the truth is there's our time and God's time, and God's is so very much swifter than ours -- when we stop being the impediment. (Within 48 hours of that conversation, John had a job and a place to live.)

I spoke in another organization last week on the subject of "The Big Bad Wolf." After talking about the 1933 cartoon and fears rampant during the Depression and the growth of the threat that became World War II, I moved to personal fears. I read part of the Big Book about fear:

This short word somehow touches about every aspect of our lives. It was an evil and corroding thread; the fabric of our existence was shot through with it. It set in motion trains of circumstances which brought us misfortune we felt we didn't deserve. But did not we, ourselves, set the ball rolling? Sometimes we think fear ought to be classed with stealing. It seems to cause more trouble. (Alcoholics Anonymous,  pages 67-68)

I am afraid. I'm afraid of computer games, of the box of Bisquick in the pantry calling me to come make comfort foods, of people on the elevator asking if my retirement date isn't coming soon and whether I'm ready, of retirement. I'm afraid of failure, but even more I'm afraid of success. I am afraid. 

An OA friend told of her experience riding a bicycle built for two, her husband in front. She said the experience of holding onto handle bars with no steering capacity, looking around to try to see what's ahead -- that it's an odd experience. I'm ready to trust the driver, to let God control, to get me out of the way and see what success looks like. I'm afraid. Of myself, I have no adequate defense. Thank God I don't have to.

Drat! It should be HARDER.

"If you're not afraid of something, then there's nothing to overcome and it's not courage. But if you're afraid and you do it anyway, that's courage." Mur Lafferty 

Just do it. Act as if. "...praying only for knowledge of His will and the power to carry that out." (Step 11) I know all this stuff. I know how to plow ahead and be successful. I know how to do the things that need to be done. But they don't. I don't. I hide my head, and things become a crisis before I do them. And I fear. It's comforting to know others fear, others who are successful and out there where I want to be. 

I know I'm good. I know I can accomplish what I want to do. So why do I hide my head and avoid doing them? Why am I not moving forward?

I am moving forward. Not at break-neck speed. Not a lot faster than a turtle sometimes, but hey, have you seen a turtle move when you see him in the road and turn around to get a photo of him? They do. And they get somewhere. And I'm getting somewhere. One day at a time.

I've got fears. I've got self-esteem issues. But I can do things. And I am. God's will, God's design for my life. Putting that out there, not my fears. But it's so scary....

At the Beginning

Step 1. We admitted we were powerless over food, that our lives had become unmanageable.

Three years ago, I came to OA, and I was powerless over food, my life was out of control, chaotic, far from manageable. Right now? I'm just as powerless over food as I ever was, and I cannot manage my life one twit. The difference is that now I know I don't HAVE to manage my life and that being powerless over food is just fine as well as I'm NOT managing my life. When it's turned over to my Higher Power whom I call God, when I admit sometimes on a second-by-second basis that good's pull is still as strong as it ever was, that the control over the food, the power over food comes -- from without, or from the God within me, however I choose to envision it at the moment. It's not as though it's imposed on me, but God's very internal. And he's not a puppeteer, not pulling strings from the inside or the outside. Turning my life and will over to my higher power doesn't take away my own ability to control. But when I rebel and act on my own -- in defiance, in doubt, in fear -- then I plummet back into the abyss of my old unmanageable life. I don't like it there.

I came into OA three years ago. For a while when I do chips, I've talked about time in program or abstinence. I know I have been fudging because I wasn't clear about my own position, and that made me sound less of a hypocrite to myself. From now own, I'm going to say it exactly like the script says it.

And I haven't taken my third year chip. I didn't take it on Dec. 16, the day before my abstinence date, and I've missed the last two meetings because my kids from out of state came in an hour before the meeting the 23rd, and they left the morning of the 30th. But I would have felt really ambiguous about accepting the three year chip then. I'm abstinent today, have been yesterday and the day before. I will never take that third year chip. I don't know on in December of 2010 whether I'll take a 1 year or 4 year chip, but I know I've taken the first step one more time and this time my life's out of my hand, and I won't take it back. With God's help and your support.

Christmas Eve

Christmas Eve 

Why write a Christmas poem? 

After two thousand years 

the subject's saturated, 

glorious songs by 

Handel, Wesley, the bigs. 

Besides, why me? I've 

decked no tree these last few years. 

Writing checks passes for giving 

and keeps me out of malls. 

It's Christmas Eve – I sit 

with my computer. But earlier 

I went to church, sang carols, 

felt "in." And I care. 

In a grinchy kind of way. 

I'm thankful. For computer 

peaceful nights, for people 

I care enough to write 

checks to. For an account 

that doesn't cringe. 

For God's love, as much tonight 

as last night, last month, a week from 

Tuesday. I'm glad earlier years 

torn between competing parents 

have passed, dissipated, ended. 

I'm glad for hope for peace on 

earth for me, for others, for 

people who let go and let 

God grant us glory. For the Word 

that's God who gives us words. 

For Grace. Thanks, God.

Thankful

I committed a week ago today to make a gratitude list daily, and I made a half-hearted attempt to do it for a couple of days, then life got in the way. I'm sorry. And this Thanksgiving week should have certainly been an easy one to start the habit. But today's a new day. And I am grateful for the ability to start now, for the new day. I'm grateful for:

• Time together the last few days with people I love.
• Being surrounded by people who understand what I'm doing, that tasting everything they've cooked isn't the only way -- or even a very effective way -- of proving my love to them.
• A very special conversation I had on Thanksgiving Day.
• Abundance.
• Challenges.

I started the month participating in an online challenge to write a poem a day. I fell behind, but I think I'll use today's prompt to complete my thought here. The prompt is to finish the phrase "through this" and use that as the title of a poem. Okay. Having now written the poem, it's not what I expected to come out. And it makes this a disjointed blog entry, but here it is:

Through This Feasting Season   

We gather 'round the table,

tradition thick, families collected,

loving, but the love flavored with resentment,

caring, but scarred and scared

the past may stream flaming

through the door, carried high like

baked Alaska.

We gather 'round the table,

sitting back afterwards, grateful

for abundant food

and for learning once again

the feast that is love 

remains and reigns.

Redefining Tools?

The eight tools of Overeaters Anonymous are a plan of eating, sponsorship, meetings, telephone, writing, literature, anonymity, and service. 

With many others these days, I rely on the computer for a great many of my connections with other OA's outside the weekly meetings I attend. It's easy to figure all the literature was written years ago, before the computer age, and to assume the computer via email, online meetings, and Internet groups count as a tool as well. Certainly, they're helpful. But computers don't substitute for the tools -- or for any of them. I, and others I sponsor, seem to shy away from that 500 pound monster, the telephone. Personally, I don't rely on the phone as much as many other people, not just for OA but in life situations in general. Today I was looking for information I needed. It had been suggested I get the information by phoning a particular organization. I didn't want to. That recommendation was made last Thursday. I finally called it today. I just don't like the phone particularly. 

I also called my sponsor. And I'm going to continue to do so. From this point on, I'll use all the tools, including the 500 pound phone.

Dealing with resentment

When a person offended we said to ourselves, "This is a sick man. How can I be helpful to him? God save me from being angry. Thy will be done."

We avoid retaliation or argument. We wouldn't treat sick people that way. If we do, we destroy our chance of being helpful. We cannot be helpful to all people, but at least God will show us how to take a kindly and tolerant view of each and everyone. (Alcoholics Anonymous, page 67)

She said, "Sorry for the late notice." But I want to tell her just how sorry she really is! It feels like I'm doing more than my share already. I know I'm a "volunteer." I know I'm doing more than I should because I don't ask for help well. And I'm about to go eat in a place both for breakfast and for lunch where my ability to control and eat within my food plan will be challenged. Heck, for the second, I'm in charge of bringing the desserts! 

I heard a couple of weekends ago that courage to change the things I can means from my skin in; serenity to accept the things I can't is those things skin out. So I'm sitting here working on the skin in, planning for skin out.

I came to the 5th chapter today to find a different passage, one I need:

We ask Him to remove our fear and direct our attention to what He would have us be. At once, we commence to outgrow fear. (Alcoholics Anonymous, page 68)

I jumped up and left this when I realized what time it was this morning. The day went well. The restaurant had food I could eat abstinently, as did the meeting at noon. I've had a good day, and the resentments didn't drive me to the food and now basically are damped and dying.

I listened to OA speakers driving today, and one notable quote was that forgiveness means giving up our dream of a different past. Neat quote. Good day. And good night.