Gratitude

This past week I was sick.  I was home all week except for about 4 hours when I went into work to get some computer stuff ready for a monthly meeting.  I spent most of the time moaning because I ached everywhere.  Even my hair hurt.  I ate soup for 5 days in a row.  I drank tea, water and juice.  Nobody came over to visit because they didn't want my cooties, though some people called to keep me in the loop.  Most commented on how awful I sounded.  That's always so beneficial and uplifting, having loved ones tell you that you sound like shit.  Like they want you to know that they believe you aren't lying about being ill?

 I felt so bad I couldn't sleep.  That's adding insult to injury when you can't even pass the time by sleeping.  Like your illness doesn't want you to miss any of the excitement that feeling lousy generates.  How thoughtful.  Wouldn't want to miss out on any of the thrills and chills that come with a fever, now, would we?

Some really bizarre thoughts came to me during this time.  I found myself thanking my HP for giving me such a comfortable home in which to be sick.  I thanked Him for giving me a job that allows me to have as many sick days as I need without any retaliation.  My husband came home after working 10 hour days to fix his own supper and also make soup for me.  He did so with no complaints.  Have I mentioned that I believe my hubby is a gift from my HP?  I believed it before this illness, but the belief was reinforced last week.  The sun came out in the afternoons and it was warm enough to sit outside and smell the reawakening of the Earth.  People walked past the house and we exchanged greetings.  I have a comfortable couch on which to lie down.  My recliner was nice to curl up in while reading.  I can read!  I'm very grateful for that.  I could bathe and let the sweat of sickness rinse right down the drain emerging refreshed and clean.  There was a selection of lotions and creams to rub into my dry skin.  I have soft fuzzy jammies to wear plus thick socks to keep my feet warm.  Just because I felt really yucky does not mean my HP is a big poopy for letting me get sick, it means that illness happens to human beings.  I am very fortunate that I can recuperate in such comfortable surroundings.

This might be what my sponsor calls having an attitude if gratitude.

Spring

I went outside this morning and could actually smell Spring!!  For whatever reason, it seems as though this winter has lasted for ever.  I ended up thanking my HP for this sign of hope and expressing my gratitude for His giving me this fabulous gift.  Granted, He gave this gift to everyone, but that doesn't make spring any less of a gift to me.

Being in ?A has taught me to be grateful and I've been in recovery long enough that I sometimes express it spontaneously.  In meetings I learned that a grateful person won't relapse so I try to have an attitude of gratitude.

My sister, Barbie, just got back from spending a few weeks in Florida and the first day home she was complaining about the weather both here and where she had been vacationing.  The world here was covered with ice.  The world there was warmer than it had been when she had been there.  I'm glad that she goes away for part of the winter because there is only so much whining I can take.  Finally I told her I didn't want to hear it, that  I wanted to hear nothing but gratitude from her lips.  Those that didn't spend the last few weeks down south had had a bunch of snow and below zero temps that she had missed and if anybody got to whine about the weather it was the ones who had remained.  But listening to her reminded me how awful ingratitude sounds, which reinforces my commitment to practicing an attitude of gratitude.

We still have snow on the ground.  The temperature is still barely above freezing.  The sun is playing peek-a-boo with the clouds instead of filling the day with sunshine.  Despite all of that, I can hear the birds chirping in the trees.  I can see squirrels chasing each other up and down the tree trunks and bare branches. I smell spring in the air this morning.  My HP is so good to me.  And for that, I am truly grateful.

A Voluntary Muscle

In a 12 step recovery meeting a few days ago I heard this:  The tongue in not an involuntary muscle.   This really caught my attention because I often have to apologize and/or make amends for stuff that I say.  Many people say that a couple of hours after a hostile conversation they wish they had thought to say some cutting remark at the time.  This is not me.  I'm fairly quick on the draw when it comes to this sort of thing.  A comment comes to mind and is out of my mouth before I hardly have a chance to think.  Hence the frequent apologies and amends.  A quick tongue is not necessarily a gift.

As an aside, I'm having trouble coming up with a title for this post.  "The Tongue" or " A Quick Tongue" would probably draw the wrong crowd, don't you think?

But, when I do bite back a caustic comment, I can't think of anything else to say so I say nothing.  I'm so busy resisting the delivery of a harmful retort the moment passes.  It might take me a day or two to figure out how I'm feeling and how to express it in a sober manner.  There's the rub: A sober manner.  This recovery stuff is difficult!  It is much more than putting down the drink or drug.  It is also trying to adopt the principles of recovery and make them a part of my character.  On a daily basis.  Every day.

So!  When I'm tempted to spout off I'll try to remember that my tongue is a voluntary muscle.  I don't say anything by accident.  Even when the shit-stirrer calls me and says something designed to goad me into saying something I shouldn't.  Even when I'm tired and have nothing left to give to another.  Even when I'm frustrated and/or overwhelmed.  Even when someone is all but begging me to let them have it with both barrels.  My tongue is always a voluntary muscle.  Well, that sucks.

Welcome

After several attempts to resurrect my old blog, sobernotsomber, I have conceded defeat and started over with a semi-new name.  Being unable to continue with the old blog is a consequence of my own inaction. This is no ones fault but my own.  I have searched diligently for someone else to blame but remain unsuccessful in this endeavor.  That just makes it worse.  Sigh....  Let us pause for a moment of self-pity and pouting.

Outside it is snowing and blowing to beat the band (that means a lot).  I'm sitting here, enjoying a cup of coffee, listening to the wind rearrange the landscape, having nowhere to go and no place to be and incredibly grateful to be in a toasty warm house.  This probably means that the pouting and self-pity time is over.  I find it difficult to be full of self-pity and gratitude at the same time.

Whether you are a new reader or have followed me here I welcome you to join me in meandering along as I wander through this journey of sobriety.  First of all, I am in recovery and will do my best to honor anonymity.  All 12-step programs will be referred to as ?A.  (Originally, I considered calling the programs X-A but that reminded me of algebra, a subject I prefer to leave in my past.)

The previous paragraphs have taken almost an hour to write.  Obviously I am out of practice.  Since my HP (Higher Power) has indicated it is His will is for me to write a blog, I'm sure I'll get better with practice. A take on "...do the footwork and leave the outcome up to God..." with which I am very familiar.  He leads me to lots of things I am in no way capable of doing but when I balk, He sends in my hard nosed sponsor who reminds me that I have turned my thoughts, words and actions over to His care.  Then she tells me to get busy doing His will.

Oh!  One more thing - I will write about experiences and situations encountered in my quest for recovery.  If, when you read a post, you think I am writing about you it is because I am.