The Head Center

Arranging my head
on the stairs. Rose petals
cling to my clothes and
skin like those little bits
of plastic bag. I want
more out of life
than clingy plastic or
even rose petals. But
as I sit on the stairs
gathering my head
I wonder what it was
that was so important.

Why did I get all
worked up over nothing, when
peace was all I ever sought
in the first place. I
need to let you know
that you are in my heart
and I didn't know that until
I sat on the stairs after
we argued. I'm sorry for
what I said. I know
it was awful.

You had put together
such a grand plan. The place
all decorated and filled with
love. I was blind to it --
I only saw the mess
of you and me. Now without
even knowing why I do things
I can say I'm sorry and I
love you. It's something I
learned somewhere along
the way. Thanks
to you.

I sit here with my age and all my years of hard living hanging on every muscle and impinging on every joint. My insides don't forgive me for the missed check-ups and maintenance visits. My spiritual connection to AA has subsided; I have taken up the mantle of atheism. My physical connection to meetings, though I have gone to two in two days, is slight.

I heard an old coot share tonight. A good old boy I appreciate very much. He had been spared death on numerous occasions, having flown over the handlebars of a motorcycle at high speed and then his liver went sour decades later from the hepatitis he received along with the blood transfusion. I also reconnected with an old coworker and friday beer bash drinking buddy who was at the meeting. The coot's topic was gratitude and though it seemed redundant that a lot of folks were grateful to be sober and such, tonight it struck me and I found myself grateful for precisely that.

I forget sometimes that sobriety and the work of recovery provides for sobriety. I expect and want a whole lot more. If I can settle in and go to AA in order to simply not drink, I might get a lot more out of it.

I heard a woman share the other night. The woman who shared spoke beautifully, with many graceful, sober years in her voice. I hadn't been to a speaker meeting in a pregnant stretch of time. Lately, I've been immersed in my work. I work in a treatment program, helping people overcome their addictions professionally. My clients, when they open their mouths, tie themselves in a knot. Perhaps they are tanged up in their lies; or perhaps, ensnared in their emotions.

As the woman shared, the contrast between what she was saying and what I've been listening to my clients say was stark. The woman's wreckage, her personal problems, her struggles, her fears ... these were yielded unabashedly, as matters-of-fact. She held the HOW. She demonstrated the honesty, open-mindedness, and willingness which we know as the essentials. She utterly got it done.

The word that popped into my mind was courage.

As the woman carried on, I was transfixed by her gaze. It pierced. The word that popped into my mind was courage. I heard a great definition of courage later in the same meeting, delivered in the negative. A friend of mine shared, "I once asked my sponsor, 'How shall I walk through the fear?' and he told me 'You shall walk through the fear afraid.'" This was what the woman had done to stay sober. It was what she had done a few minutes ago as she shared her story. She demonstrated the HOW.

"We beg of you to be fearless and thorough from the very start."

'nuf said -- iz

Man Alive!

There's this feeling that is indescribably wonderful. It comes upon me only when I am spiritually connected and when my mind is laid open. Of late it happens but once in a great while, but when I was earlier in sobriety, say with two or three years, it would happen with regularity because I was more spiritually productive in my program. When it swells up in me, it defeats anything negative I am feeling. It's the presence of God's grace ... it is a lightness of being combined with a depth of feeling. It commands my attention. I can think of nothing else. It's in my stomach more than my head. I can only be happy; worry is defeated. It imbues me with a sense of permanence and invulnerability. It is neither like a hallucination nor is it mysterious. It is not in the future nor the past. It is right now!. When I have it I can only be in the moment.

It convinces me that life is good.

Now I'm sure you can imagine ... and I am feel rather silly making such an obvious statement ... but I should tell you that I quite enjoy it! Hahahahaha. Now I'm laughing out loud. Man Alive! Hahahahahaha. It feels GREAT to be alive! It feels GREAT to be sober! I want us to share this feeling. Please come with me on my journey! I can't go it alone! I need you! I need you to come feel this wonder with me! This is sobriety and it is for everyone who wants it! It's for everyone who needs it. And it's for anyone who does it. Goddamit, now I need kleenex!

A sponsee of mine who has been sober for five years called me yesterday. He announced something that he had said to me before on a number of occasions. He said, "I feel like I want to hurt myself." There was a tone in his voice decidedly unlike any prior call he had made of this nature. He was distressed more than usual. He then added something new; he said, "I'm at the hospital. I'm standing in front of the emergency room entrance."

I swallowed hard. I told him to go on in and tell the nurse how he was feeling. He doesn't always do what I say, except when he's in a lot of pain -- then he becomes an extremely good listener and exceedingly obedient, to boot.

Long story short ... he's having a rest now and a few days off of work. He's not in a good head space, he needs to work on a number of issues. He asked me for a pad and he's going to do another fourth step, which he had been putting off. He also said he was really furious with God right now, and that God had failed him utterly on a number of fronts. I told him to make two lists and to define a new higher power. I told him to make a list of traits he wanted his HP to have and traits he did not want his HP to have. I think in the end, he'll end up with the same HP he had before and hopefully he will have a spiritual experience along the way.

I may also. When I saw him hurting this badly, and so scared, and nearly falling apart, and needing so much help, it touched a vulnerability inside me. It scared me because this guy has kept me sober for five years. It also touched the compassionate place inside me that working the steps gave to me. He is not just a sponsee, he is a friend. No, he is a loved one. I felt profoundly sad that this was happening to him.

I'm sure everything will work out. It usually does. My sponsor told me when I had five years, that "you go crazy in your fifth year." I said, "what?!?!?!" He said, don't worry about it, just keep coming back. I don't know what else to say at this point except that the wisdom of the elders is certainly to be respected. That is a spiritual way unto itself and part of my spiritual experience.