Shoulds

I was driving to work today and I was thinking "I should be thinking this way." The "way" I was hoping to be was some tuned-in Buddhist practice, I suppose. I don't completely remember. What did catch my attention is that I'm constantly thinking that I should be thinking in some other way.

Monitoring, monitoring, monitoring. Judging, judging, judging. Where does it let off?

I don't think it lets off. I think my mind is set up to trap myself again and again in thinking. And the end point of that thinking is that I don't measure up. I'm not a half-empty kind of guy. I'm a completely empty kind of guy. Except when I'm completely full of myself. The more I think about a thing, the more certain I am that I'm not right in some way.

There's a certain attitude in recovery that I recognized long ago, but I keep forgetting and forgetting. So much of the life of recovery is working through pain. If you want to be free of pain, you must become very intimate with it. The problem, of course, is that I am very sensitive to pain and really, really want to avoid it. That is the root, trunk, branch, leaf and fruit of my addiction. Fear of pain keeps me from working through it.

But let's say I take a real honest first step and realize that I can't take it any more, that I am really, truly introduced to my pain in such a way that I want to do something about it. Then I take a really honest third step and agree to do whatever it takes to come into agreement with God's will. In that situation, I am living with pain and it's okay.

I am living with pain and it's okay.

I think that is the ultimate attitude to have in recovery. To deny pain, either the pain of the past or the pain that comes in every day is not serenity. It's a deep denial. Pain is real. That is unavoidable. That pain is unavoidable is a first step issue, I believe.

I believe the piece that I am missing in my recover to day is the acceptance of all that is good in my life. I'm missing the gratitude. I'm afraid my attitude towards life and recovery right now is:

I am living with pain and I need to end that by doing something.

Shoulds. I should do this. It should be this way.

The truth is, things are not too bad for me right now. I am doing as well as I ever have and in many respects better than I have ever done. And yet, am I "happier" now than before? No, I'm just about at happy as I've ever been. Yet my "shoulds" and my attitude of scarcity obscure this goodness at all times.

I think the issue is my attitude. I am just looking at the situation as 1) bad and 2) intractable. The truth is that things are 1) good and 2) solvable. Perhaps I find the various solutions distasteful, but they are real and they work.

So, I'm committed to living today (just today, one day at a time) in gratitude. The attitude of gratitude. I think this attitude can work where the shoulds cannot. This feels right in me right now. Right.

Encasing my suffering ... in ice

I promised to post again about yesterday. I promised to post again last night, but today will have to do.

I didn't stay with my suffering yesterday. About an hour after I wrote the previous post, I opened up my browser and started reading about Iran. I don't live in Iran, I'm not of Iranian descent, I'm not a diplomat, I'm not a politician. But I decided that it was important that I know just what was going on there.

There's something admirable about staying on top of important news stories; staying informed. But that is not what I was doing.

What I was doing was avoiding. I was in turmoil and I reached out for something that would help me forget. I equate it to putting my emotions on ice. Television is my traditional numbing device. In recent years, the Internet has taken that position. What's yours?

So, there were a couple of hours there where I knew a lot about the pain of Iranian disenfranchisement, but not a lot about my pain. And then, of course, I started to "gently" berate myself for being lazy, for wasting time, for not living up to my word, for not taking care of myself. Do you know this trap?

I realized I was in that trap and started taking better care of myself. I called a friend in recovery, actually two. I made and ate lunch. Then I went to a 12-step meeting after work. These things all brought me back to reality.

Recovery is sort of like a jigsaw puzzle. If you work on it, you'll make progress. If you just leave it there on the card table, you won't. So, I actually had an opportunity to process some of the pain that was lying within me, but I took a pass. It wasn't that the pain was too much, it's just that I decided to go another way. I'm conditioned to avoid. That's just how I am.

This is an example of taking the 2d Step without taking the 3d Step.

I have made a decision to live differently, to feeling my feelings straight through. I didn't do that, not completely. I have a little bit of a raw feeling about that, like I let myself down. I did. But I'm also aware that I am learning, slowly, how to take care of myself. I need to both recognize my shortcomings without shame while acknowledging what progress I have made.

And, all things considered, yesterday was a good day. I took one step forward and no steps back.

Embracing my suffering

I woke up this morning really suffering. I was away for the weekend visiting family. It was a good time, but I was really in comparison mode, especially with my younger relatives. They seem so happy, they seem so accomplished. They're on the cusp of doing wonderful things.

And I feel like life has passed me by.

So, much negative self-talk this morning. I meditate each morning, 20 minutes. On days like this my meditation can be a string of negative thoughts. Those thoughts reinforce negative attitudes and lead to negative actions. And I go lower and lower.

So, I am suffering today. And I write that to acknowledge it. I'm not acknowledging it to "move on". "Moving on" from suffering is the way I do business. It's part and parcel of my addiction.

Instead, today, I am grateful to write that I am embracing my suffering. During my meditation and since I have silently thought:

"May this suffering awaken my compassion."

It is an affirmation I have learned from Tara Brach. Accepting the bad feeling and gently examining it helps me to experience it right now. It actually stops me from judging "it" or judging me. I'm merely aware of my sadness, and the way it is manifested in my body.

It is not fun. I am very sad, sad as I type this. I am near tears. But these are the tears that are like a spring rain. I am comforted. I am feeling compassion for myself.

My biggest decision so far today is to take things very, very slowly. I took my time driving to work. I have no anxiety about getting done what needs to be done and being content with that. I am dedicated to not losing myself in businesses and not lashing myself for not getting more done.

I am going to take my time and live in my emotions. I will post again this evening. Can I live like this? Can I truly live otherwise?

Invested in life

I had coffee yesterday with a friend in recovery. He told me that he had a difficult conversation with his partner on Sunday, but that on Monday he felt better and has been feeling good all week. I think that's a parable of recovery.

Recovery involves courage and hard work today. It's not something to put off for tomorrow. Courage is nothing more than doing the thing that your fear tells you not to do. Every Step of recovery is an assault on your fear. And every assault on your fear is a step in recovery, no matter if it involves making amends to your wife or merely thanking God for another day of life.

The upside is that I think my life today is the product of what I did yesterday. My recovery work puts a deposit in my bank that I enjoy tomorrow. Much of the benefit of recovery is seen down the road. When you're in the mindset of tomorrow, you start to listen more to God, because when you're invested, you want to make sure your effort goes towards something of real value.

Unfortunately, I'm not set up to think and act like that. I'm an addict and my addiction is all about feeling good RIGHT NOW. My life in addiction was a string of "live for the moment" days that really didn't add up to much. And each day I'd wake a little less happy with myself and a little more sure that I didn't have what it took to get better.

Whatever good things might come into my life would be quickly consumed. I was always living just on what was available right at that moment. Worse, I "sold off" whatever credit I had in good will with everyone I knew: burning my furniture for heat until I didn't have a chair to sit on.

Things have taken a different turn in recovery.

I woke up this morning feeling okay about being me. I didn't feel that way because I'm suddenly a good person now. I feel that way because I've slowly become a good person.

The theme for this week for me is giving up the obsession with things being "right" right now.

I didn't wake up wanting to be someone else. I didn't have regrets about yesterday, or any yesterday back and back and back. I'm reconciled with life. There was a lot of work to get where I am and there's still work today. The task was and is a lot lighter because of the people in recovery who came before me and those who have directly guided me with their example and words.

My life is precious now, because I'm invested in it. I thank God that I was able to learn how to live through 12-step recovery.

Permiable boundaries

We discussed boundaries at a meeting the other day. It was a good discussion.

Boundaries work both ways: they let things in and they let things out. Boundaries protect, but they also allow. Healthy boundaries keep bad things out and let good things in. And maybe they let good things out and keep bad things in?

One boundary difficulty I have is that I let negative criticism in too easily and fail to let in positive criticism. Say something bad about me, and I believe that. Say something good about me, and I discount it. It's a strange thing; a sad thing. I do believe good things about myself, but maybe I don't believe that other people really believe those things?

There are good reasons to have defensive boundaries, but I tend to maintain defenses long after they are needed. I'm over-insured.

There's a bit of a sphinx about me. I don't share enough of myself with people. That's confusing to people, because they don't know where I stand. And also, I am very likely to let my hostilities show to people and that's off-putting.

Then there are just the normal, human interactions that don't make their way into my heart. How often do I stand perplexed while others laugh? Or cry? Or even get angry? My boundaries make me aloof.

How do I loosen my boundaries? My hard boundaries were all built as a defense, so I think renovating them is a matter of trust:

1. Trust that people like me.
2. Trust that people want the best for me.
3. Trust that the occasional injury is outweighed by the continual benefit of openness.
4. Trust that I won't be destroyed by my vulnerabilities.

I guess it all comes down to a trust in God, in the universe of caring love, support and understanding. It's out there. It's truer than my fears. And it's better too.

Today.





There are valves in our arteries and veins that only allow the blood to flow one way. This seems to be the way