Unbroken

After a while we begin to see recovery messages everywhere. This week I finished reading the new book, “Unbroken” by Laura Hillenbrand. She writes about World War II and the American Pacific soldiers and prisoners of war. It’s a tremendous piece of history and a page turning narrative.

It’s also—surprise—a book about spiritual change and miracles and belief and faith. The title’s keyword, unbroken, has multiple meanings as the story unfolds. And there is also a most moving section on becoming free of addiction.

Hillenbrand delivers some great bites of wisdom that we might hear in any 12 step room. Here’s one we could add to any meeting on resentment:

“Resentment nails every one of us to the cross of his (her) ruined past.”

Ebby and Bill

Today is a special day in AA history. On this day, December 14, in 1934, Ebby Thatcher came to visit his old drinking buddy, Bill Wilson, and in Bill and Lois’s Brooklyn kitchen Ebby gave his testimony and took Bill Wilson through the Oxford Group conversion process. What we today call steps 4, 5, 6, 7 and 8. It was Ebby’s gift to Bill and the gift that has been passed on to all of us. In the Oxford Group one could take all of those steps in one evening: The inventory, the confession, the examination, and then making the list of people harmed. Then one went out to make restitution—later called amends. Ebby was Bill’s sponsor. It began here—one drunk helping another. Bill was willing. He saw something in Ebby. He wanted what Ebby had. From this start we get Bill W. committed to sobriety. From a cold flat in Brooklyn to the rest of the world. We know that Ebby later struggled. But he was well used by God. Thank you Ebby.

Looking for Signs

I laugh now at how many times in my life I have prayed for a sign to let me know if I was on the right path or for help in making a decision. In very difficult moments I have begged for skywriting from the universe and just last week I told a friend that I’m still waiting for an envelope from God with my name on it. Maybe I watched too many episodes of Mission Impossible as a kid, but part of me wants instructions that spell out exactly what I should do with my life.

I know God doesn’t work that way, but I also know I’m not alone in wanting him to. Some people flip coins or watch birds or follow the crude metals index. Others keep psychics in business and ensure that books on spiritual guidance top the bestseller lists. I’ve tried it all and I’ve been to Tarot readers, thrown the I Ching and I have a well-worn set of Rune stones.

Years ago when people close to me were dying and I was tearfully demanding to know God’s will, a friend who was more experienced in grief chastised and reassured me by saying, “Gods will is what is”. The simplicity and profundity of that statement silenced me for a while.

But I come back again to wanting to know, and often it’s at this time of year and there’s a good reason. As the winter begins and we are faced with dark and cold there is a pull from deep in our bones that drive us to seek light and answers. The need for light at this time of year is so great that we adapted culturally to give it to ourselves. We've had Hanukkah, now Solstice and  soon Christmas, all great stories about finding light.

The part of the Christmas story that has always meant the most to me is that of the three wise men making their journey, traveling on a hunch, a belief, and their deep wanting. They had studied the sky for years and then they saw their sign.

In his poem, Journey of the Magi T.S. Eliot wrote: “At the end we preferred to travel all night, sleeping in snatches, with the voices singing in our ears, that this was all folly.”

Of course that is the problem with star following. You just don’t know. We see this most painfully now looking at the news. Stories of young men and women as heroes in war and others, the same age who commit terrible crimes. All of them following their stars. But how do you know until you show up whether there’s going to be a baby or a bullet?

So the wise men’s lesson is all about faith: We do our best, we study, we consult with others, we try to be wise men and women, but we have to get on our camels, bring our gifts and hope we are doing good.

This is solstice week and these are our darkest days. We cope in the most ancient of ways. We go toward the light--to neon and the mall, to crowds of shoppers, even as our ancient relatives were drawn to stars and the fire.

Through all of this we’ll read our horoscopes. We’ll hope our loved ones will be spared the only thing that no one can be which is death. We’ll look at the night sky and try to believe. No wonder a baby born in a barn is a great story. No wonder we look for signs.

Self-less or Self-more?

Conflicting voices in my head. Conflicting voices from program and from therapy and from Oprah too. Do you have this battle in your head? It’s hitting me hard now with a new job and the holiday season and it goes like this:

@ Be of service

@ Be selfish

@ Think of others before--or instead--of yourself

@ Take care of yourself first

@ Let go of what others think of you

@ First impressions matter

@ Think less of yourself

@ Put your self care first

And on and on…I’m trying to find the middle ground. Some days I sort of have the balance, I think, but other days the pendulum swings too far to self, others days too far to putting other people’s needs or expectations first.

How do you balance this? How do you find the middle?

Shoes Shoes Shoes

Can shoes be an addiction? It’s one of those things that you have to sort out for yourself. Maybe asking yourself if your shopping feels compulsive? Secret? Shameful? Is it hurting you? Getting in the way of something else you want? Or is it fashionable? Frivoulous? Fun? Sometimes a shoe is just a shoe. Not really. For men shoes are just shoes. But even then, no. Shoes are always screaming billboards of personal identity.

In Chris Cleave’s new novel, “Incendiary” one of the lead characters is explaining to her new friend why she has to change her shoes in order to change her life and she says, “Good luck adores good shoes.”

The Voice

I picked up Geneen Roth again today. Her newest book is called “Women, Food and God”. In the section I opened to she is writing about The Voice.

This isn’t unique to people with food issues or eating addictions. All addicts have a version of The Voice. Many non-addicted people have The Voice too—those of us in recovery recognized somewhere along the way that we were eating, drinking, shopping, starving, exercising or manically pleasing other people to quiet or mollify The Voice.

Roth writes that, “The Voice feels and sounds so much like you that you believe it is you. You think you are telling yourself the truth…the intention of the Voice is to stun you not to activate your intelligence…Its intent is to keep you from being thrown out of whatever it perceives as the circle of love.”

I’ve come to understand that my Voice is young—a younger part of me—kind of mixed with my mother’s fears and some crazy reasoning I cooked up as a kid—a young part of me that figured out—in a kid’s way of figuring—that if I could be prettier, thinner, smarter, then I would be loved. If loved then not left. If not left then safe.

Of course that young self only had access to limited experience and experiences that I saw thru its eyes and didn’t really understand. So I concocted a set of ideas that are still broadcasting into a 57 year-old head. It’s kind of charming and sweet in a way—that is when it’s not making me quite crazy or insisting that I have to keep EVERYBODY happy or else just use whatever is handy to not feel at all.

In AA we sometimes hear comments like, “My head will try to kill me”, or “My best thinking got me here.” Both true but not because the Voice is malevolent—it’s young, it thinks it can help, but we know better. That’s why we don’t give car keys and chain saws to six year olds.

Roth writes, “The Voice usurps your strength, passion and energy.”

Is there an antidote? Harry Potter learned one: Don’t listen to The Dementors. Don’t believe what they say; change your thinking when the dementors are around.

Writer Byron Katie has another way. She says, “I love my thoughts. I’m just not tempted to believe them.”

In AA when we hear someone new or a bit misguided we laugh and say, “Thanks for sharing” We can say that to the Voice also, and “Keep coming back.”

Montaigne on Death

I’m reading Sarah Bakewell’s new biography of Montaigne. Wonderful format: she writes one question: How to live? And answers it in 20 essays giving glimpses into Montaigne’s life and writing and thinking.

A near death experience was a key to his life and thinking. He wrote:

“If you don’t know how to die don’t worry; Nature will tell you what to do on the spot, fully and adequately. She will do this job perfectly for you; don’t bother your head about it. Life is more difficult than death; instead of passive surrender, it takes attention and management. It can also be more painful.”