Step Over the Drunk

The other day I was telling a friend about my introduction to Alanon. I started attending when I was new to recovery because my relationship issues were so tied to my drinking.

My recovery began in Baltimore, Maryland and for many years Baltimore’s Cathedral Alanon Group was one of the oldest and strongest. Longtime members there were jokingly called Black Belts in Alanon, and in fact, there was a group of women there with very strong recovery. One of their sayings was, “Step over the Drunk”.

What these old-time Alanon-ers meant was that if you were on your way out to your job or your Alanon meeting and the drunk in your life was passed out on the doorstep you were to, “Step over the drunk”, and keeping going. It was literal for some members of the group who were still living with active alcoholics, but it was also a slogan that meant, “You keep living your life no matter what the drinker does.”

On my way home—after telling this story to my friend—I had a realization: Sometimes I am the drunk that I have to step over.

So many times fear is on my doorstop, or lack of confidence or envy or insecurity and I need to see those defects just like they were drunks, and step over them and keep going.

Step Ten Quick and Often

I’m working on Step Ten and, as is my way, I’m reading everything written about it. (Why act when you can prepare?)

But I come back to this simple recommendation from page 84 of the AA Big Book:

One: Watch for selfishness, dishonesty, resentment and fear.

Two: Ask God at once to remove them.

Three: Discuss them with someone immediately.

Four: Make amends quickly.

Five: Turn our thoughts to someone we can help.

Here’s what strikes me: it’s not a lengthy process and it has a speed to it. Look at these words: “at once”, “immediately”, “quickly”, “turn”. This also suggests it’s not a nighttime activity as I had always assumed and practiced it. This suggests it’s on the spot, now, here, fast and in that immediacy and repetition many times during the day is the building of a habit. It’s kind of “Ooops. Help me. Dam. Sorry. Next.”

I’m also chewing on the idea that inventory includes the good and the bad, the saleable and the spoiled. So what part does looking at the good I did this day come into a 10th step inventory?

Happy New Year

Labor Day is the best holiday, coming, as it does, with a long weekend and no obvious family obligations. There is, however, the strum of anxiety that crosses these few precious days. This is the last call of summer and we want to order one more round of fun before the house lights come up on Tuesday.


There is something important for us at Labor Day though. This is the time when many of us organize our lives—like our school supplies--make our decisions for the coming year.

The New Year begins now, and we know that in our bones. For at least twelve years we started over on the first Tuesday in September. Back to school meant that we could try out a new identity forged over the summer. Maybe your look changed. Had you let your hair grow? Or cut it short? Would everyone sense the sophistication you gained visiting your sister in L.A.? Back in June you were that same old kid, but every September a new you debuted the day after Labor Day.

There were inner changes as well. In September you promised yourself you'd be more popular, more friendly, more outgoing. Or maybe you decided you'd study more and hang out with the good kids. Every single year you could try something new. You could be a scholar this year after a past as the class clown. Or you could be the friendly one after years as the grind and curve setter. The opportunity for a re-do came every year the day after Labor Day. And it still does.

January isn’t the right time for New Year’s resolutions. How could it be? We’re too busy with the holidays and broke from gift giving. Are you really going to create a new body or mind or spirit in the middle of all that? No.

September is the time to not only promise yourself a new exercise program, but to start it. It's light after work and it's not too cold in the morning. September is also much better than January for starting a diet. You are coming off a summer of fresh foods, and you’re not bloated by 30 days of holiday treats. As for a new look; who can afford one in January? You wear your name off all your plastic just trying to get through the holidays, and then tax time is creeping in. But now when sweaters look appealing and the fashion magazines are thick as old fashioned phone books, now is the time to think about new clothes.

No, the new look and image and relationships you have been promising yourself come in September just as they did when you were a kid. Remember how it worked in Junior High? You decided to wear a tweed jacket because that summer you discovered poetry (or girls who liked poets). Or you promised yourself that you’d set your hair in a smooth flip every morning to look like those girls in the magazines.

In September you could try out in public all the looks you had practiced in the mirror behind your bedroom door. So what if the good intentions only last a few weeks. Some part of it always stuck, some part of the “new you” was the real you-- and real change-- and that's how you moved on.

You still can. The new you begins now as it always has. Go get some new sox, a red plaid shirt, a book of poems and a haircut. This is the time to be kinder, nicer, smarter, to listen more, eat less and hang out with the good kids. The trees show us how it's done: try new colors; shed the old layers. It's September. Happy New Year!

What to be...

I saw this on the cover of a notebook:

Be a

LAMP

or a

LIFE BOAT

or a

LADDER

Beginner's Mind --Patience and Humility --Click!

I’m learning to use my new computer. Not just new but my first Apple. She is so pretty and slim and graceful and she’s making me crazy. (Has to be a girl right? Everyone keeps telling me how intuitive she is.) I know that day will come, but today I am reminding myself of “beginners mind” and “being teachable”. I knew that I would have to let go of old habits and give up my right hand reaching for the phantom mouse, and I knew I’d have to play and experiment, but I forgot that it would also feel frustrating and awkward. A lot like being in a new relationship—minus the good sex.

I already see my control issues, my insistence on having things my way and oh, the perfectionism! I want to know how to use it already. (I want to be loved now—today). But I don’t and can’t until I play, experiment and oh yeah, go to school. So I went for some tutoring in Apple Land tonight.

So a new commitment to my newest relationship: to be gentle and kind and to laugh and to trust that intuition will prevail and that my sweet new Apple and I will bond.

Like a Hurricane

We are preparing for Hurricane Irene. And for some of us it could be used as an installment in the quiz: “How to Tell If You are an Addict”.

How much water do we need? How many batteries? Milk? Ice cubes? And then the important stuff: How much chocolate? Today I had that irrepressible and irresponsible urge to stockpile cookies and “granola bars” (the kind that are really like candy bars)—because well, it’s an emergency

I thought today about all of the people who really must prepare in a serious way for the power outage: hospitals and nursing homes, and people with disabilities, and people with teeny babies, and I also thought about active alcoholics who have to manage having and ingesting a supply of alcohol while their families are around. There will be no slipping out of the house to “get a paper” or “check the scores” tomorrow.

I’m so grateful to not have that pressure and that anxiety.

Willingness is an Action

My morning reading today says “Shifting one’s perspective requires a willingness to quit nursing whatever thought is behind the feeling that’s negatively affecting your well-being, then inviting your Higher Power to choose a better thought to replace it.”

There’s the action: Become willing. Ask your Higher Power.     So I can’t just whine, “I feel bad”? Sadly, no.

Here is some of the best stuff I have heard about willingness that reminds me that even “becoming willing” is an action.

“Willingness is a softening toward an idea”
“Willingness is leaving the door slightly ajar.”
“Willingness is showing up.”

And when I am really dug in to my unhappy position:

“I am willing to consider the possibility that I may not be right."