Lest we forget...

I feel pretty good most of the time. It is easy to forget that I am in recovery from alcoholism. This isn't unusual among us addicts, you know. Life gets good, and it begins to look like I can handle things myself. Bad idea. I get into all kinds of trouble, and have come close to drinking a couple of times, because my disease lives between my ears, and unless I engage my connection to God and the Universe, I kind of sink into its seductive logic that oblivion is preferable to pain. Well, duh. But years of slogging through it have taught me that pain is the catalyst for growth, and growing is always uncomfortable. It means leaving behind patterns and behaviors that no longer serve me, and trusting that the newness will be a sweeter place to live. For that to happen, I need to be bleeding and on fire first. When you sit down on a hot stove, you move really fast. I trust my sisters in sobriety to guide me at those times. Their view is unclouded with sentiment or bias. The telephone (and email) are invaluable tools in times of turmoil. And I have sat on the other side of the equation, a lot. Nothing gives me more joy than to be there for another who is in pain. It reminds me that working a program for nigh on to 20 years, I have picked up some wisdom along the way, from the women who walked this path with me. Nothing I have is new. Great mystics like St. Thomas Aquinus, Marcus Aurelius, Rumi, Jesus, Buddha, Albert Einstein, St. Theresa, St. Francis, they have all contributed to the vast store of knowledge and wisdom. So, I learn and grow, learn and grow. Painfully.