For me to make real progress in this program, I had to realize that I wanted to smoke pot -- was good at it, craved it, etc. -- AND I wanted to quit. Both of those things are true. When I realized that, I was able to accept the fact that I was an addict, and I quit beating myself up for wanting to get high. I was able to say, "Okay, I want to get high, and I want to quit, and for today I will choose, with the help of others and my higher power, to not smoke pot."
That's what worked for me. The other thing I do is, if I can't figure out what I want, I look at what I have. If I don't know what I want to do, I look at what I'm doing. So when I complain about my problems instead of working on them, I have to honestly admit that at this moment what I want is to complain, not to work. Realizing that helps me move towards deciding to work.
So when I hear somebody say they'd rather get high through the holidays and decorate their house than go to an MA meeting, I think to myself, "That is true and honest." I do NOT judge that person, because I know that person is doing the best they can, and being honest in a meeting. I also think that as long as an addict thinks that way, they'll keep smoking pot, and/or suffering from terrible cravings and guilt. When that addict is able to say, "I want to get high, and I want to get sober," they'll be on the road to making a different decision -- one that will bring different results.
I hope some of this makes sense to somebody!
Friday, December 7, 2007
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Anonmyity
Just posed this one on the Recovery Pipeline, where the topic this week is Anonymity -- which, by the way, is as difficult to type as it is to say.
Here's part of the original share:
The program is anonymous for several reasons. 1) for newcomers to feel to safe 2) for people to protected in public. 3) so people can share without fear of their business being talked about.
I'm Paul, and I'm a marijuana addict. Thanks for the topic. I think one of the original reasons AA adopted this tradition was that a pretty famous person a baseball player, I think) got sober and told the world he was part of AA. Then he relapsed, and the credibility of AA took a blow.
But the three reasons you've listed are perfect, and I think the most important is so that people can share freely and be honest. The first decision I made in MA, after I decided to keep coming back, was to not BS the group -- BUT if I thought people were talking about me, judging me, etc., I would not have felt safe being honest, and then I would not have stuck around.
I still struggle with this, though: talking about what others have shared in meetings. When I am talking with friends in recovery, sometimes we will share news that we heard about other people's lives, which we heard in their shares. Or we will try to guess which newcomers are going to stick, based on what they shared. Or we will use a person's share as an example of what works or what doesn't.
Thank you for reminding me that all of this is breaking anonymity, even when I am saying positive things about somebody. What happens in a meeting stays in the meeting! Anonymity is the spiritual foundation of all our Traditions, and I am grateful for that reminder today.
Here's part of the original share:
The program is anonymous for several reasons. 1) for newcomers to feel to safe 2) for people to protected in public. 3) so people can share without fear of their business being talked about.
I'm Paul, and I'm a marijuana addict. Thanks for the topic. I think one of the original reasons AA adopted this tradition was that a pretty famous person a baseball player, I think) got sober and told the world he was part of AA. Then he relapsed, and the credibility of AA took a blow.
But the three reasons you've listed are perfect, and I think the most important is so that people can share freely and be honest. The first decision I made in MA, after I decided to keep coming back, was to not BS the group -- BUT if I thought people were talking about me, judging me, etc., I would not have felt safe being honest, and then I would not have stuck around.
I still struggle with this, though: talking about what others have shared in meetings. When I am talking with friends in recovery, sometimes we will share news that we heard about other people's lives, which we heard in their shares. Or we will try to guess which newcomers are going to stick, based on what they shared. Or we will use a person's share as an example of what works or what doesn't.
Thank you for reminding me that all of this is breaking anonymity, even when I am saying positive things about somebody. What happens in a meeting stays in the meeting! Anonymity is the spiritual foundation of all our Traditions, and I am grateful for that reminder today.
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
The Importance of Recovery Friends
Friends were among the first gifts of the program for me. I came in lonely as well as depressed, sick, freaked out, etc. The first thing I saw was a room full of sober potheads. Their existence gave me hope, and I quickly figured out that I needed to hang out with them -- in meetings and after meetings and at events -- if I was going to stay sober, because most of my other friends were either not sober at all or had no idea what I was going through.
As I started getting sober and making recovery friends, I noticed a wonderful thing: that we could communicate on the usual, smalltalk, shared-interest wavelength, and we could communicate on the spiritual, how-ya-doing wavelength. I still think that's wonderful.
My recovery friends know me much better than other people, so their friendship is especially appreciated and important to me. They are not the whole program, just like meetings aren't, but they are a valuable resource for fun, understanding and support that I always grateful for.
As I started getting sober and making recovery friends, I noticed a wonderful thing: that we could communicate on the usual, smalltalk, shared-interest wavelength, and we could communicate on the spiritual, how-ya-doing wavelength. I still think that's wonderful.
My recovery friends know me much better than other people, so their friendship is especially appreciated and important to me. They are not the whole program, just like meetings aren't, but they are a valuable resource for fun, understanding and support that I always grateful for.
Monday, December 3, 2007
What do You do When People Say "God"?
My girlfriend went to a small gathering of spiritual-minded folks last night, and when she came back she asked me, "What do you do when people say 'God'?"
What followed was, typical of me, a long and rambling discourse that mostly left both of us confused. I could boil it down to this, though: depending on the context and speaker, when someone says "God" to me, I either:
A) do nothing, because there's nothing for me to do,
B) translate their "God" into my "God" or some allegorical Being,
or
C) get a little defensive.
In other words, if somebody says something like "A religion without God (like Buddhism, Hinduism, or Taoism) isn't a real religion," I get a little defensive; I mean, tell that to the billions of people practicing said religion. Or if they are just describing their beliefs, like saying "I think of God as being that guy on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel," then there's nothing for me to do.
The translation thing, though -- well, that's where I started to ramble. And basically, what I was trying to say was this: I think of God as a purity of love and a complete absence of ego or will, which exists in each of us and is accessible to each of us, if we can set aside our own ego and will to let love flow through us. And in that purity of love, all are the same, all are loved, all are one.
So when someone says "God will take care of me," I tend to translate that into something like, "If I can cultivate within me the spirit of pure love and live in that state, I have nothing to fear or worry about." And if somebody says, "Eternal life can be achieved through Jesus, son of God," I turn that into "Peace and freedom are available to me in the eternal "now" if I can cultivate the spirit of pure love by following the examples and teachings of Jesus, whom I believe to be the physical embodiment of the purity of love which I call God."
And, most relevant to recovery, "Turn it over to God" means, to me, "Set aside my ego and will right now, so I may act in this moment as I would if I were living in the spirit of pure, egoless love."
See how I can ramble?
What followed was, typical of me, a long and rambling discourse that mostly left both of us confused. I could boil it down to this, though: depending on the context and speaker, when someone says "God" to me, I either:
A) do nothing, because there's nothing for me to do,
B) translate their "God" into my "God" or some allegorical Being,
or
C) get a little defensive.
In other words, if somebody says something like "A religion without God (like Buddhism, Hinduism, or Taoism) isn't a real religion," I get a little defensive; I mean, tell that to the billions of people practicing said religion. Or if they are just describing their beliefs, like saying "I think of God as being that guy on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel," then there's nothing for me to do.
The translation thing, though -- well, that's where I started to ramble. And basically, what I was trying to say was this: I think of God as a purity of love and a complete absence of ego or will, which exists in each of us and is accessible to each of us, if we can set aside our own ego and will to let love flow through us. And in that purity of love, all are the same, all are loved, all are one.
So when someone says "God will take care of me," I tend to translate that into something like, "If I can cultivate within me the spirit of pure love and live in that state, I have nothing to fear or worry about." And if somebody says, "Eternal life can be achieved through Jesus, son of God," I turn that into "Peace and freedom are available to me in the eternal "now" if I can cultivate the spirit of pure love by following the examples and teachings of Jesus, whom I believe to be the physical embodiment of the purity of love which I call God."
And, most relevant to recovery, "Turn it over to God" means, to me, "Set aside my ego and will right now, so I may act in this moment as I would if I were living in the spirit of pure, egoless love."
See how I can ramble?
Friday, November 30, 2007
Defining our Higher Power
First, some pretty cool comments on the previous posts. Somebody must have clicked in from MySobrietySpace.com. I set up a profile there. My first sponsor also sent me an email about Job, and I took the liberty of posting it here as a comment on that post.
Had lunch with a sponsee today, and he's been on the 3rd Step. My sponsor had told me that it's important at this point to have some workable image of a Higher Power, no matter how small, so we can have some idea of what we're turning things over to. Something you can wrap your head around, as he said. Lots of folks use the group, or a more classic notion of God, whatever.
My first take on this, about eight years ago, was that God was the little voice in my head trying to get me to do the right thing. I heard it very clearly in the later years of smoking pot, when even as I lifted the pipe to my face, I'd hear "Don't do it! You don't like it! You'll regret it!" And that voice was always right. Sometimes after I smoked I would immediately hate the feeling and wish I had listened to that voice.
My notion of a Higher Power has changed over the years, but at first my notion of the Third Step was simply following that voice, wherever it came from ("tuning in God's station" was another way I thought of it).
So today this sponsee came up with another one: He knows there's electricity, even though you can't see it or really understand how it works, but stuff works with electricity, which is omnipresent, even in our bodies. So, for him, if God is like electricity, then the program is like the plug you stick in the wall. That action (willingness, faith) allows God to go to work in your life. I thought that was pretty good.
Then we went off into a long, rambling conversation about religion and particle physics and Buddhism -- just the kind of massively intellectual conversation we both enjoy and which adds up to absolutely nothing. But it sure was fun.
Had lunch with a sponsee today, and he's been on the 3rd Step. My sponsor had told me that it's important at this point to have some workable image of a Higher Power, no matter how small, so we can have some idea of what we're turning things over to. Something you can wrap your head around, as he said. Lots of folks use the group, or a more classic notion of God, whatever.
My first take on this, about eight years ago, was that God was the little voice in my head trying to get me to do the right thing. I heard it very clearly in the later years of smoking pot, when even as I lifted the pipe to my face, I'd hear "Don't do it! You don't like it! You'll regret it!" And that voice was always right. Sometimes after I smoked I would immediately hate the feeling and wish I had listened to that voice.
My notion of a Higher Power has changed over the years, but at first my notion of the Third Step was simply following that voice, wherever it came from ("tuning in God's station" was another way I thought of it).
So today this sponsee came up with another one: He knows there's electricity, even though you can't see it or really understand how it works, but stuff works with electricity, which is omnipresent, even in our bodies. So, for him, if God is like electricity, then the program is like the plug you stick in the wall. That action (willingness, faith) allows God to go to work in your life. I thought that was pretty good.
Then we went off into a long, rambling conversation about religion and particle physics and Buddhism -- just the kind of massively intellectual conversation we both enjoy and which adds up to absolutely nothing. But it sure was fun.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Dealing with Cravings
The topic for this week is dealing with cravings.
I guess it happens to all of us, especially if we happen to be around people getting high. I was at a concert recently in a small, crowded venue, and there were a lot of people getting high. Now, I've been sober for more than 7 years, but I won't lie to you: It occurred to me for a moment how nice it would be to have one little hit, just to add a little something to how the music sounds.
So here's what I did: I had a little conversation with myself that went like this: "Paul, it makes perfect send you'd want to get high. You had some good times doing that, and live music was one of your favorite things to mix with weed. No doubt, one little hit might be fun for a moment, BUT -- what happens after that? What happen when you have a hit? Or a sip of that tasty beer they're all having? Are you a guy who can have just one? No? Well, that's okay, at least you know that. You smoked your share of pot, and then some, and now you have made up your mind not to do it anymore. Not even one little hit, because for you, there's no such thing. What we're really talking about here is not one little hit, but a whole bag, all the time, all by yourself. I know you don't want that! So enjoy the music, wish these folks the best, and be grateful these little cravings don't come along too often, and that you have a better way of dealing with them than before."
In this case, in addition to that little voice, I also had a lot of examples around me of what I look like when I use: people stumbling around, acting the fool, making stupid noises, and generally being pathetic. Doesn't look like fun to me anymore. Looks kind of sad, actually.
So how do you deal with cravings?
I guess it happens to all of us, especially if we happen to be around people getting high. I was at a concert recently in a small, crowded venue, and there were a lot of people getting high. Now, I've been sober for more than 7 years, but I won't lie to you: It occurred to me for a moment how nice it would be to have one little hit, just to add a little something to how the music sounds.
So here's what I did: I had a little conversation with myself that went like this: "Paul, it makes perfect send you'd want to get high. You had some good times doing that, and live music was one of your favorite things to mix with weed. No doubt, one little hit might be fun for a moment, BUT -- what happens after that? What happen when you have a hit? Or a sip of that tasty beer they're all having? Are you a guy who can have just one? No? Well, that's okay, at least you know that. You smoked your share of pot, and then some, and now you have made up your mind not to do it anymore. Not even one little hit, because for you, there's no such thing. What we're really talking about here is not one little hit, but a whole bag, all the time, all by yourself. I know you don't want that! So enjoy the music, wish these folks the best, and be grateful these little cravings don't come along too often, and that you have a better way of dealing with them than before."
In this case, in addition to that little voice, I also had a lot of examples around me of what I look like when I use: people stumbling around, acting the fool, making stupid noises, and generally being pathetic. Doesn't look like fun to me anymore. Looks kind of sad, actually.
So how do you deal with cravings?
God and those "tests"
The topic for this week is: Does God give is more than we can handle?
Thanks
This is one of those recovery phrases that I never really identified with -- not that I have a problem with it, but that I never had a sense of a Higher Power that was doling things out, giving tests, checking results, and so on.
I always felt like, for me, this would lead to some kind of confrontational notion of me and God, like Job had. I only recently learned the end of that story; after God had destroyed Job's life, Job went to God and said "What the hell?" (Needless to say, I'm paraphrasing). God's response (paraphrasing again) was "Who the hell are you to ask?"
At first I thought, man, who wants a God like that? But then I thought, maybe what God was saying was, "Why waste your time with thoughts like that? Why put yourself through all this misery wondering why or what, or getting into self-pity?"
I'm a long way from a Biblical scholar, but it's an interesting story to consider. Maybe one lesson from that story is "Life simply is. Don't fight it." I mean, when Moses asked God who he was, didn't God say only "I am." Dude.
I have this weird, non-formed, semi-unified, combo Buddhist-Tao-Mystic notion that all these concepts like "me" and "you" and "God" are just constructs of our mind, created for purposes I don't understand, and that all suffering comes from our attachment to these ideas, when what really works is going with it, not putting labels on it, not trying to intellectualize it, etc.
Success, suffering, failure, happiness -- all ideas we came up with to understand things. Acceptance and peace -- that's what I'm after!
I don't know if that makes any sense at all, and I hope I haven't offended anybody (especially any Biblical scholars who might be reading). Just random, spiritual thoughts in a coffee shop on a rainy Oregon morning.
Paul
Thanks
This is one of those recovery phrases that I never really identified with -- not that I have a problem with it, but that I never had a sense of a Higher Power that was doling things out, giving tests, checking results, and so on.
I always felt like, for me, this would lead to some kind of confrontational notion of me and God, like Job had. I only recently learned the end of that story; after God had destroyed Job's life, Job went to God and said "What the hell?" (Needless to say, I'm paraphrasing). God's response (paraphrasing again) was "Who the hell are you to ask?"
At first I thought, man, who wants a God like that? But then I thought, maybe what God was saying was, "Why waste your time with thoughts like that? Why put yourself through all this misery wondering why or what, or getting into self-pity?"
I'm a long way from a Biblical scholar, but it's an interesting story to consider. Maybe one lesson from that story is "Life simply is. Don't fight it." I mean, when Moses asked God who he was, didn't God say only "I am." Dude.
I have this weird, non-formed, semi-unified, combo Buddhist-Tao-Mystic notion that all these concepts like "me" and "you" and "God" are just constructs of our mind, created for purposes I don't understand, and that all suffering comes from our attachment to these ideas, when what really works is going with it, not putting labels on it, not trying to intellectualize it, etc.
Success, suffering, failure, happiness -- all ideas we came up with to understand things. Acceptance and peace -- that's what I'm after!
I don't know if that makes any sense at all, and I hope I haven't offended anybody (especially any Biblical scholars who might be reading). Just random, spiritual thoughts in a coffee shop on a rainy Oregon morning.
Paul
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