I came across a post on a new to me blog today that prompted me to write an email to a friend. An "ember letter" of my own, if you will.
What's that you ask? An ember letter is officially a letter between a postulant and their Bishop that lets the Bishop know how it is with them.
When I read the post I immediately thought how healthy recovery demands a daily ember letter of sorts. If not between myself and God, at least within myself. It could also be between me and my sponsor or another supportive person. The minute I start avoiding any of those options I am isolating and headed down a dangerous path. The problem is that isolating can feel so cozy and comfortable.
Last week my therapist asked me to take a step back and question what being stuck was doing for me. What the payoff was. I came to the conclusion, hashing it out with Bobbie, that stuck means avoiding being present to myself or to life around me. Stuck feels cozy and comfortable.
But it's where I'm at. That much I can be honest about. This week I've returned to Centering prayer because it's one 20 minute period of the day where I'm present or at least very aware of my inability to be present. It requires an honesty of me that is unavoidable. I didn't know 20 minutes could be so long.
I'm having a love/hate relationship with being stuck.
Waiting, waiting for something to happen.
It's such an old pattern.
Time to make a new groove.
In the true spirit of an ember letter
I know I am in a better place than I was a year ago.
A year ago I was preparing to go to treatment and feeling very scared.
A year ago I didn't have the tools and skills to do anything but
avoid my feelings at any cost.
A year ago I didn't know what it cost me physically to spend so much energy in avoidance mode.
For many days now I've written in my body journal
"tired, so very, very tired."
That's too high a price to pay any longer.
I see that now.
Grace to be present.
Not straining, nor striving.
That's my prayer.