Ah How sweet was a clean and sober relationship !
I tell you. The little things I am doing take INCREDIBLE effort. I am so resistant to going out nowadays and afraid of it that to be moving house is the stuff of nightmares. I tire easily and begin to bleed. As well as that all the moves from 2002-2014 were with my beloved helpmeet. He handled them well – or maybe we handled them well together.
Now I find myself needing to PROGRAMME myself as I did in early recovery. Like an automaton. Till I find a place to rest.
But what is happiness except the simple harmony between a man and the life he leads.
Love is less a feeling than a thousand tiny acts of kindness.
“Our fears are lessened and faith begins to grow as we learn the true meaning of surrender. We are no longer fighting fear, anger, guilt, self-pity, or depression.”
Basic Text p. 26
And this is my problem at this time and since the death and coma.
Surrender is the beginning of a new way of life. When driven primarily by self-will, we constantly wondered whether we’d covered all the bases, whether we’d manipulated that person in just the right way to achieve our ends, whether we’d missed a critical detail in our efforts to control and manage the world.
We either felt afraid, fearing our schemes would fail; angry or self-pitying when they fell through; or guilty when we pulled them off. It was hard, living on self-will, but we didn’t know any other way.
Well last night I was done in again. Kaput. Arkue rang and kept talking till things were a little clearer and I also just plain sat here and said I GIVE UP.
Then I slept all night and woke as normal people do – and functioning. I went to town and handed in my rental application to Natalie. I have also now spoken upfront with Lisa and she knows that it is my intention to leave within 2 weeks.
From the real estate I went to the Urunga Meeting. Drove myself. So I did. I enjoyed it too and was clear and upfront with the men who have offered to help me. Men and woman. Now I need to speak to Shazz, Cath and – well that’s all i know. Today’s tasks are done. Dinner is cooking. All kind of mad thinking is bedevilling me. I really need to work from my head for this.
It was a cold day but blue skied and crisp. I liked being in Urunga but going back is not the answer to my unhappiness. I don’t know what the answer is. I am attempting to work from head logic.
I HAVE BEEN increasingly content with my daily life and if I can make my little nest and survive the settling in – I think that will return to me. I just need to not lose the plot in the transition.
My girls popped in as well. I love my family.
I guess it was not to be expected that I would come through the anniversary of izzy’s death and the decision making about moving without being rocked and rocked I have been.
I feel a little better tonight. Glory be !
One step at a time.
Walk In Dry Places
Let it Happen
Easy Does it.
Student pilots learn a simple method for getting an airplane out of a stall; Release the stick forward, and the airplane rights itself. Continue to hold the stick back, and you cause a fatal spin.
Many times, we cling too tightly to conditions that could simply right themselves if we would only let go. Situations often work themselves out when we stop pushing and pulling too hard.
If we’re living on a spiritual basis and following our 12 Step program, lots of unpleasant conditions will clear up without any strain or struggle on our part. The secret, then, is to do our part and act prudently, but also to be willing to let things happen.
I’ll remember today not to push or pull too hard to get my way. Things might work themselves out if I simply let natural forces work properly in every situation.
A THATCH. I can call my place a THATCH. Unless I find an aboriginal word which fits better.
They truly love their homes,
so they have no interest in travel.
There may be some carts or boats,
but these don’t go anywhere.
Everything is ordered and predictable, and that is what the farmer in Berry would seek in his final house. But as the poem continues, the “house” is more complex.
Beyond this final house
I’ll make no journeys, that is
the nature of this place,
I came here old; the house contains
the shade of its walls,
a fire in winter; I know
from what direction to expect the wind;
I move in the descent
of days from what was dreamed
to what remains.
In the stillness of this single place
where I’m resigned to die
I’m not free of journeys:
one eye watches while the other sleeps
— every day is a day’s remove
from what I know.
The house is the container of poet’s mind and spirit. The poet is now old and realizes that this will be his last house, that his journeying will end here, though one ultimate journey remains, and every day brings him closer to it, one step removed from the familiar.