Welcome Lake

We walked the shoreline of a small lake yesterday, then sat in the pickup for awhile. A half-hour vignette of lake life played out before us while we watched. A bird trolled the waters, swooping in on dinner. A family explored the waterfront on the far side of the lake. A few clouds dallied overhead. Wind brushed up the surface into white caps, and the sun kissed each crest. A lone duck paddled back and forth at intervals. We decided she must be ferrying food to a nest full of ducklings. A fisherman cast his line and soaked up the ambience just long enough to catch one fish. It was our first visit there, but we could tell this was habit for him, and the protected place by the trees was his favorite spot.

There was never a big crowd, but the lake had something to offer whoever was drawn to its waters and its borders. It occurred to me how much that quiet lake is like OA, operating under the principle of Tradition 11 - attraction, not promotion. A silver lure, a deep water healing to be drawn to, not a program to be advertised or rammed down unwilling throats.

Now that I've found the road to that spot, I won't need to be dragged back there. I will keep going back because I want to. I find something of value there.

When the student is ready, the teacher will appear.
**Buddhist proverb **

On-line Again, At Last!

Ahhh, I'm back. It's a good feeling to be connected to the world again. My computer hasn't been feeling up to snuff and its ills have kept me off-line for days.

Hmmm...just re-read the lines, thinking how parallel to my own life. I myself have been on the blink, have not been communicating, not running my Programs. I've been every bit as off-line as my computer.

Mulling over the comparison, on-line equates with awareness, readiness, latent capability. But nothing gets done until I apply my fingers to the keys. How eerily compatible with Step One.

All week I've been pre-Step One. My life was wildly out of control. Again. Will I ever make it past Step One? With OA tools, OA friends, and one very patient Higher Power, I will at the very least walk the length of Step One again. I want to be back on-line and get on with the doing.

Bye-bye, s'ghetti...

My little girl hated leaving the park. I almost hated taking her, knowing the struggle it would be when time to go. By accident, a solution presented itself. It seems she just needed time to prepare. So, about ten minutes before leaving we would start the good-byes. Good-bye, swings. Good-bye, slide. Bye, kiddie pool. See you later, drinking fountain and picnic table. Good-bye, brown dog. Bye-bye park, it was fun today. Bye-bye playground. At the exit, I'd take her by the hand and whisk her away as if by magic.

Now I'm in recovery, beginning the healing process of addictive food behavior. Cutting portions seems doable. So does restricting snacks and choosing healthy foods. But it shook me to the core to discover that certain foods are binge foods, triggers to overeating. Oh, no! My binge food is spaghetti. I never get tired of spaghetti. It could be on my menu every day. Nothing tells me when to quit eating. How do I separate myself from spaghetti? How do I say farewell to my favoritest favorite?

Oh, I remember. Good-bye spaghetti. Bye-bye long, succulent noodles. Bye-bye, sweet red sauce with olives and mushrooms. Bye, hefty shakes of parmesan cheese. Bye-bye, French bread with heaps of garlic butter. Bye-bye.

Laughing is Good

I meant to find a way to take the emphasis off food. But food is everywhere in this Program. I'm gobbling up OA literature, munching For Today meditations each morning, searching cupboards for a workable food plan. It seems my whole day is spent journaling about food, thinking about food, talking about food. Hysteria has me in its grip right at the moment. I'm weak and giggling, near to toppling off my stool. Imagine! My most recent success has been to find a new way to obsess about food!

I know better, really. I believe in the Program, especially seeing its results in the people I've just met at the meetings.

Life has been so heavy. My body weight is so heavy. I've been carrying around a useless load, and it feels good to throw it to the wind for a moment and laugh at myself.

Hearing Capabilities

Words jump out and leap right into my face. They force me out of a fog and into the chair in this room.

From the first minute of my first OA meeting, I wanted to assimilate every word, but the buzzing in my head kept me from hearing at all. There was this hum outside of me - and inside, the echo chamber of my own internal mumblings. Then the speaker's eyes were focused on me. She served as leader of the day, the one presenting the morning's program, and I began to hear her words - "...are the most important one here today. Your coming here helps us maintain our own recovery. So YOU are an important guest." Oh, she's talking about me. Now isn't that like me, to key into the topic when the words are about me. Another Step, I understand, but not for today. This hour is just for listening and orienting to this group and this program.

I'm observing me from a level that sees what a mess I am. My life is out of control. With the hope offered here in these rooms, I can climb back down into myself and be whole. Wholly me, and wholly present at every happening of my life.

Very First Day

A daze describes that first hour in OA, not so very long ago. I attended an early morning meeting wedged into busy days by people who want it that much. I arrived breathless from the effort to get there on time, finding an address to a place I hadn't been before. Before I knew it the hour was up, participants offered me phone numbers, helped clean up the meeting place, hugged all around, and left.

Outside, I looked around to see what I had missed on arrival. The building, the sky, the neighborhood - all seemed hazy there in the parking lot, fuzzy and disorienting, like I had been ushered into secret caves and tunnels and then thrust out again into the world.

Blinking my eyes against a too-bright sun, I found my car, the only familiar thing I could recognize. Yet it looked different. Everything looked different.

That's how my day began, the first day of recovery - that first day when there was no sign of recovery yet in me anywhere.

Life 101

My life is out of control. I'm at Step One every day, no matter what other step I might be working on. A few days ago I was in the process of keying an email to another steps sister. She had read some of my OA journaling, and my question was whether she thought a particular entry was too raw to post on a blog. As the words "too raw" plunked onto the screen, the words on TV broke into clarity. The TV was merely background noise until those words blared - "too raw." An interviewer was telling an author he had read several chapters of the book, and mentioned a certain passage. The interviewer asked if the author had any concerns deciding to include some of the intensely personal material to the reader. And he used those words: "Did you have any concerns it might be too raw for your readers?" My ears picked up those echoed words and caught the author's answer. He answered back: "Heck. Life is raw. Life IS raw."

There was my answer. Instead of pressing Send, beaming my question through cyberspace to my friend, I simply tucked the questionable journal entry back into its slot. It will appear here in time.

We come into OA rooms to deal with raw life and all its scars and scabs. The Program, the tools, the people in the rooms, help us heal. Today begins my story, some days good, some days not.

Hugs,
Steps Sister