Entering The Cave

Second night this week that I am having insomnia.
It's been a good day.
Full of people.
Which has been strangely uplifting for this avowed introvert.

Winter is coming this week with cold temperatures and snow.


I do not feel brave about driving winter highways.
Not that I ever have but every year I feel less so.
But when you live in the middle of nowhere one has to drive to get anywhere.

So facing my fear of winter driving
is going to happen
whether I like it or not.
In the past few weeks I've come to see just how much
fear I have about most everything
and how it affects me on a daily basis.
Near 50 year habits are hard to break.

I'm not trying to fix that, just being aware of it.
Much better than repressing it.

Last night I woke from a nightmare with a start.
Waking past the point where one normally wakes up.
It was only when Something shouted at me in the dream
that I woke. I tried to stay awake then for a bit
because I was scared of going back into the dream if I didn't.

Tomorrow is another full day.
I hope sleep comes soon.
Sans the nightmares.


Photo Credit

The Balls of God's Grace

"I don't like this part of the journey."

"And which part do you like?"

He asked as if I've complained about every part of it along the way.
Touche.
I laughed and said,
"The part where I have some serenity regardless of the circumstances."

So went my afternoon with Fr. Charlie.
Close to the end he asked me if I still wanted to celebrate the Sacrament of Reconciliation. I looked at him and said,
"Have I confessed enough?"
The whole session had been one long confession....this is who I am...this is what I did....this is what I said....this is what I felt like doing....this is what I harboured in my heart.
Lord, oh Lord, have mercy.

I am never more certain of how desperately I am in need of mercy than during Reconciliation. It is a balm to my soul.
Tears flowed as a vision of healing oil pouring over my entire being
flashed through my mind during absolution.
There is a God and I am so not it.

My difficult conversation this morning went. End of sentence.
Before I got out of the car I told God I had not one iota of courage to say what I had to say, but that I knew it needed to be said, so please give me the grace to do it and a measure of charity to boot.

In the end I didn't make any friends. I don't think I made any enemies, either. Neither is my concern.
I said what I had to and am relieved to have it behind me.
Tonight I read this postand had a snot nosed cry because essentially in that difficult conversation this morning I was saying, "I'm sticking up for those who are powerless and if you act like a Mutha F*cker, I've got their back."

How I wish someone had done that for me as a child. I know all too well feeling frozen and powerless. As I read Pam's post my body remembered that place and the emotions were overwhelming. It was as if I was a little girl all over again. There are no words for that place. I felt like a little bit of that place was redeemed today - those times when the mutha f*ckers in my life should have been cold cocked by someone. Hmm. I have never used that term MF before and I'd resolved to not swear on my blog this year. Forgive me, it's one of those phrases that I want to say a dozen times in succession tonight and beat the crap out of something at the same time.

I hated that conversation this morning.
When I say gutsy things dearest one tells me
I've got me some balls.
They must have been tucked up into my pelvis when I was a kid.
Kidding.
I'm no hermaphrodite.
It's only by the balls of God's grace
that I spoke up today.

Of Mountains and Mole Hills

It's Friday night.
This will have to suffice for Saturday's post.
I'll be busy the next two days with an AA conference thingamajig.
Which is totally out of my comfort zone.
Crowds of people aren't life giving for me.
But there are super nice people to be found in AA and Al-Anon.
I'll make some new friends and go support old ones as they share in meetings.

On Sunday I'll be chairing the send off meeting.
Which is more than out of my comfort zone.
At first I said no, I wouldn't chair it.
Then I decided that fear was a lousy reason to say no.
So I'm going to do it anyway.
Plus I get a chance to give back, if only in a small way.
I can just hear my sponsor saying,
"What, are you scared you'll make a mistake?"
Which is what she said the first and only time
I voiced my jitters about chairing meetings.
I'm more comfortable with it now,
but we are a very small group.
I have no idea how many people will be there Sunday but chances are there will be more than a handful. More like a dozen or two handfuls.

I told a friend this week I'm just trying not to make a big deal of it in my head.
The head is where big deals get made....mountains out of mole hills to be exact.
I'm still not feeling up to snuff.
Better, but still not well.
I was hoping I'd be in bed sick
but I'm just walk around sick.

I hope you have a great weekend.
I'm quite sure I will.

Of Presence and Presents

It seems like such an old pattern, one that's been mine since childhood: I'd rather go looking for distraction than be present in this moment. Distraction was the fuel that kept my addictions alive and growing while I was dying spiritually and relationally.

Distraction, being stuck, avoiding this present moment, all came to a head yesterday. Next week I'll be turning 46 years old. Last year on my birthday I decided to gift myself with no more binge eating. One day at a time, sometimes one nanosecond at a time, by the grace of God and my willingness, it continues to be a gift. I've often pictured my binge eating self as a ravenous animal tearing away at flesh, out of breath and still not satiated. I've certainly wanted to go there this past year. For today I ask God to help me choose not to.

I've been mulling over for a few weeks now what this year's gift will be. Centering prayer is the answer that's kept coming to me. Centering prayer places me right smack dab in today. One on level I see that as a huge gift. On another it seems like torture. Which is why I keep mulling it over, hoping another answer will appear. Yesterday as I went to do Yoga though, I decided that centering prayer would dovetail quite nicely at the end of my session. So I set my pocket timer for 20 minutes and began.

I cried from beginning to end.

From my journal:

"The tears just kept coming. First of all that I'm being called to this kind of prayer ~ that it will be my birthday gift to myself ~ as I acknowledged that I start to sob. The safest place ~held in God's embrace ~ feels so scary of a place to go. So I told God that. I cried out, "Daddy, I'm scared."
Then I got an image of one of my prayer candles, lit within me. Acknowledging the Divine presence within me I saw it expand and fill my being. More tears. What people have been commenting on ~ my peaceful countenance, my brightness, my radiance, is all His doing. His presence within me shining. Like a firefly who simply glows because that's what it's created to do. All I can do is surrender to God and being illuminated happens despite me. I can stop striving.
Then came whispering into my heart, "intimacy is found in me." And I laid there and sobbed and thought about where I've been looking for that intimacy. In that moment I knew that true intimacy flows out of my intimacy with Christ and that when it's present it's because Christ is at the core of it. Otherwise it's a false intimacy. In Him, With Him, Through Him.
The phrase "Merciful Jesus" kept coming to me. With Reconciliation tomorrow how else can I approach Him?"

Then today, as I met with Fr. Charlie, came more clarity into why distraction remains such an attractive option. One of my recovery heroes, Earnie Larsen has a phrase, "Who's driving your bus?" by which he means, whenever you find yourself reacting to someone, or a situation, what age are you? Is it your 5 year old self driving the bus of your life, the teenage self or your adult self? Where are you reacting from in that moment? My little girl self survived childhood by looking for distraction. It was a necessary tool back then. Back then. When I resist living in this moment I am letting my little girl drive the bus of my life today. Realizing this doesn't magically fix anything but it does give me a new awareness. It makes choice possible.

During the Sacrament of Reconciliation today Fr. Charlie emphasized two things:

God loves you as you are.
God's graces are being poured over you.
Know this.

Fear, Hope and Everything In Between

My head's been in addiction land the last few days. Mulling over not only my own story but the story of others. Two books I've been reading In The Realm Of Hungry Ghosts and Love Sick have been fodder for my thoughts. Today I have 18+ months of abstinence from sexual addiction and almost a year of no binge eating. Some days both addictions nearly feel like a thing of the past and others they hound me, begging to be let back in. Fucking things.

Today I wrote an email and then followed up with a phone call to someone I was wanting to 'play nice' with instead of being honest and risking offending them. Fear is such a shitty motive for not being true to myself. One I don't want to live by so I wrote the email and then picked up the phone and said what needed to be said. No offense was taken, either. So there you go. Risk it.

Recently someone commented on the hope this post had given them: No Fear
That key fob is long gone. Dearest one recently bought me a silver one with the word hope engraved on it.
Which is what I keep doing, one foot in front of the other, day by day. This day.

Rough Mix

Today's mail delivered the rough mix CD of the radio documentary.
I listened to it by myself.
I'm not good at new things in front of others.
Even if I had already read the transcript.
It still was scary.
I'll know at the end of May when it will air.
I got paid for doing this and that feels like a bonus.
My first paycheck for creativity in 20 years.

I feel vulnerable with my story out there.
Very vulnerable.
I will let you know when it will air.
But I might go hide for awhile afterwards.
My older sis told me my dad will forget when
the air date is and my mom won't listen.
I hope that is true.
I really do.