I’m grateful for a long evening walk in the crisp Fall weather to settle my mind. I’m grateful for the hanging plant in the kitchen that finally started to bloom. I’m grateful for service commitments that push me to do deeper investigation into my sobriety. I’m grateful for a sustained period of higher elevation gains during my runs. I’m grateful for the various seating arrangements around our house that allow me to be comfortable and productive throughout the day. I’m grateful for the power of example inspiring me to gain confidence in myself. I’m grateful for vegan nuggets. I’m grateful for smart home lights. I’m grateful for returning to recent moments where my serenity was disturbed and having the ability to perform healthy post-mortems. I’m grateful for the myriad of blessings I can now appreciate in my life thanks to sobriety.

Last week I had the opportunity to visit the Western part of Colorado for a few days and it was a very moving experience. The shapes of the San Juan mountain peaks and color composition of the rocks are fairly different from what I see here in Denver. I had to take a few beats throughout our trip to reflect on how crazy it was that I found myself in those surroundings. Not just geographically, but also mentally.

In the 2010s I lived in San Francisco for several years and that part of the country is gorgeous as well. However I was usually inebriated during my time there. I either had my inconspicuous thermos filled with vodka or wine bottles hidden in the trunk as trusty travel companions. While I have pictures on my phone from Big Sur and Lake Tahoe, my memory of their majesty is blurry at best. The most obvious thing is that alcohol was a constant because in those pictures my eyes are perpetually droopy. Now, with a few years in AA, I can finally absorb my surroundings with a clear mind and that is so liberating, so miraculous, and so unbelievable given the suffocating grip alcohol had on me.

My clear mind during last week’s adventures made me think a lot about journeys. I thought about my own journey and how I find myself based in Colorado despite having no prior aspirations to be here. I thought about how fortunate I am that my continuous investment in the next tiny, right action allowed me to inhabit a headspace where I can reflect on prior poor decisions and find some peace with them. I no longer incessantly lament squashed opportunities or burnt bridges, I use the clarity I’ve been gifted in sobriety to reframe those transgressions as necessary steps along my path to understanding and healing.

I also thought about the journey of someone I barely think about – my grandmother on my mother’s side. She passed before I was born, but I’ve heard many stories about how strong a woman she was. Being uneducated and from a village with no modern amenities under Colonial rule, she managed to raise and educate 9 kids, ensure their success by bringing them to the U.S., and nurture them such that they all still speak fondly of her. I never gave her much attention because 1) I never met her so sadly a bit of “out of sight out of mind”, and 2) I immediately discounted her believing if she knew I was gay she’d shun me and would therefore be my “enemy”. Now the second point around her not being ok with my sexuality may be valid (I’ll of course never know), but that is not enough of a reason to shut someone out, especially someone crucial in giving me the beautiful life I have today. Yet that is what alcohol did to me. I didn’t provide any grace when even an iota of negativity, whether perceived or real, came into play. My thinking was simplistic, binary, and often delusional. During my trip, as I thought deeply about her life trajectory I became genuinely moved.

Regularly working the 12 Steps has given me the capacity to go down avenues of thinking like this. The Steps permit me to see nuance where there was only black or white. They permit me to reassess relationships and historical events in an effort to promote balance in my present. They permit me to expand my empathy by honestly putting myself in another’s shoes. I love how I was able to soberly draw inspiration from new mountainous surroundings to look internally in new ways. Through that introspection I discovered renewed appreciation for my journey, for my grandmother’s journey, and for the journeys of others who brought me here. I am indeed lucky to be in a phase of my sobriety where digging into my past isn’t a demoralizing endeavor. Instead it’s a beautifully layered journey of discovery and growth.

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I am so grateful to be sober. I’m grateful for my family, for Tim, for my friends, for my sponsor and for AA. I’m grateful for service commitments, for an early morning, for rest and new books. I’m grateful for a little me time yesterday, for prayer and for a fresh week.  

Gooood morning my friends (: As always, I hope everyone had a lovely weekend!

I am here bright any early with a pup curled up next to me (not so much as curled more like angry my laptop is on my lap, and he is now so he is resting directly on my arm so it’s impossible to type). Anyway, he is OUR new dog, and he is the sweetest boy. He’s a crazy pup who is currently eating off the tail of his favorite crocodile toy but you know..puppies.

I couldn’t be anymore grateful for this sweet, wild, precious animal we brough home. And who doesn’t want to hear about puppies first thing in the morning??

But what I really would like to share today is my HORRIBLE Friday the 13th experience. The day started out fine – do I was Friday the 13th? Do I not? Do I make jokes about it all day – yes. We hadn’t brough home Ori (the pup) yet so he was all I could think about and truly Friday the 13th was just another day.

And then…there was a bee. A bee that landed on our net thing that lets us keep the balcony doors open and the bugs out. And the bee was almost stuck on the net. I was worried it was going to get inside so I flicked it, and it landed on the balcony door that was only partially cracked so I went outside through the other door to push the bee door open a little more.

I’m very afraid of bees so I was only focused on the small, winged stinging animal UNTIL I turn around and THERE WAS A DEAD BIRD (not a pigeon bird guys like a beautiful Golden Finch) DEAD ON MY PATIO FURNITURE. Automatically it was an omen.

So, I’m LOSING my shit and I call Tim to tell him he needs to dispose of this dead bird when he comes home or else I myself am going to dive off the balcony. Not 5 minutes after discovering the dead body I get a phone call from a ‘No Caller ID’ phone number.

The universe was really coming for me. That was it – if I answered that phone call for sure it would just be heavy breathing on the other line and then we pan to my personal episode of dateline.  

In reality it was the school I registered to take a class at calling to tell me that the class I signed up for was canceled due to low enrollment.

Now I am almost three years sober and I still had to call my sponsor to have her remind me that HP has absolutely NO PART in the dead bird. HP doesn’t deal in that witchy stuff. Now maybe they did have a hand in the class things – maybe I need to think bigger more out of the box.

I’m definitely bummed that class gave me a ton of hope – but I can always register for a new one.

So, the universe and HP were in fact not out to get me. I told me therapist the other day that my spirituality boils down to believing even when I don’t have faith sometimes.

I believe that there is a reason for the canceled class – I’m working on the faith that something better will be on its way.

In the meantime, we have a happy pup and no more dead birds so that sounds pretty okay to me.

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Xx

Jane

I’m grateful for a sunny morning. I’m grateful to watch the storm that’s coming. I’m grateful for adventure and the way the world keeps turning. I’m grateful for all the surprises. I’m grateful to be sober today.

LAST WEEK ON TFLMS:

song of the week:

TFLMS Weekend: Where Sobriety Isn’t Just a Consequence…

(last weekend)

I’m grateful for the joy in my heart. I’m grateful for a Friday morning. I’m grateful the excitement I feel when I get up. I’m grateful for chances to live a new way. I’m grateful for seeing it was up to me to write the story. I’m grateful to be sober today.

song of the week:

I am so ahead of the curve this week. I’ve known the sotw for many hours, maybe even since yesterday. I had handy little notes on my phone (these are typically aha! type revelations that are completely unintelligible when read later). I was perilously close to having an outline. That’s how far gone things are.

My love for Stevie Wonder has been very much over-chronicled here. But apparently, not enough to stop me today. Today, being Friday the 13th, and me being very, very superstitious and loving the number “13,” it’s adorned jerseys, return addresses and it’s always my go-to if someone asks me to pick a number. You may think Friday the 13th is spooky and scary; it’s the opposite over here. There is a literal boatload of bad-ass, pirate, Friday the 13th energy over here.

Speaking of boatloads of bad-ass pirate energy, I’m getting to spend time with my son during this run-up to his deployment. Of course, it’s bittersweet and of course, I’m emotional and more than a little scared. But it’s building a bond between us that hasn’t been there for a long time. This is what I mean by how tricky the Universe is, using something that seems kind of bad and sad to build something beautiful.

I was lucky enough to have dinner with the Lieutenant and his lovely girlfriend earlier this week. After dinner, we needed to transfer my delayed Father’s Day gift from her apartment to mine. The gift? A very cool, actual shell casing fired from the 5-inch gun on his ship. What does this look like?

The shell-casing is heavy and kind of awkward to carry (it’s about three feet high). We determined we would visit Ralph’s on 1st Avenue for ice cream on the way to my apartment. As we ate our identical “small swirls in a cone” we talked about the amazing journey he’s been on since joining the Navy. I pointed out how much he had changed, how he had grown. Then I told him all the embarrassing stuff I’ve been writing about him, about how proud I was of him.

We were taking turns carrying the shell casing down First Avenue and eating fast-melting, soft-serve ice cream at the same time. We got a lot of looks as we were walking. This could be because of the shell-casing or my son’s Hollywood looks. He was asking about my gig, how much fun I’m having, how hard I’m working. He laughs when I talk about picking up my Door Dash dinner from the delivery racks in the lobby, along with all of the fleece-vest wearing, young bankers.1 He gets a real kick out of me living the law firm life again (as do I). That’s when I shared this observation with him:

We get to write our own narratives in life. We get to write our own story and it is never too late to pull out another sheet of paper and start a new chapter.

I realized I’d lived a life where I had seen a lot of things in this old world, fancy swanky things. But when I touched them, girl, they meant nothing. I realized I let other people write the story of me, or I collaborated and tried to write a story I thought they would love. That never worked. It took me sixty years to figure this out, but realizing that I get to write the story of me this time is profoundly exciting and liberating and just so incredibly cool.

Anyway (getting back to the sotw), it took me a while to really like this song and it doesn’t have a backstory (yet), like some other songs might have.

“Signed, Sealed, Delivered,” typically interpreted, is about someone who maybe made a mistake (or several) and disappeared for a while and then maybe realizes the error of their ways and hopes that there is maybe a way back. FYI, this is also the plotline for The Partridge Family’s incomparable “Echo Valley 2-6809”

You can ask, as I am now, why wasn’t this the song of the week? Too dark, that’s why. Although, if I was going to be doing karaoke in the next 48 hours, this would definitely be the song. Anyway, “Signed, Sealed, Delivered,” is a much more upbeat song, and I personally prefer the “C’mon Baby” attitude expressed therein.

Anyway, despite “Signed, Sealed, Delivered” being about feelings for another person, and a desire to get back together with that old flame, well, that’s not what comes up for me when I listen to this song now. By “listen to this song,” I mean putting on my airpods, heading out for one of my walks (and I could literally be anywhere in the city) and then having this song on repeat while I weave my way through the clueless and careless pedestrian sheep that clog our beautiful sidewalks.

This song is about something else for me these days:

I’ve done a lot of foolish things, that I didn’t really mean.

Ha Ha Ha Ha. That is the story of my life. I love all of the classic Stevie Wonder screams in this song, they add a layer of exuberance, like the one that comes after the “done a lot of foolish things” line, and then he adds “didn’t I,” to drive the point home.

There were an awful lot of mornings where I literally couldn’t stand to look in the mirror. There was no exuberance in the early mornings back then, I had a mandatory date with a barstool at 8am and I’d try to look down while I brushed my teeth and did what amounted to “pulling myself together.” When I did catch a glimpse? Haggard, pale, red-rimmed eyes, a puffy face—I really didn’t like what I saw, what I had become.

That’s what’s different, when Stevie screams,

That’s me talking to myself these days. And you know what else? Where I was, where I had to go, has about zero to do with where I’m headed.

I’ve done a lot of foolish things, that I really didn’t mean, I could be a broken man, but here I am.

Happy Friday.

I’m grateful for my dog’s daycare giving me time to focus and have some space to complete some important tasks. I’m grateful for attending a NYC meeting I haven’t been to since I moved and seeing the same fellows showing up and remaining sober. I’m grateful for the reminder that grappling with my darkness has allowed me to go into the dark with others. I’m grateful for an event that I was nervous about going as well as it could have. I’m grateful for being financially solvent enough to afford yesterday’s grocery haul. I’m grateful for the fresh feeling a new haircut provides. I’m grateful to be sitting in my papasan with my dog curled up in a ball next to me writing this and feeling content about where my life has settled.

It has been a while, but I got the chance to attend T.B.D.’s weekly Zoom AA meeting, Anyone Anywhere (Tuesdays at 7pm ET, Meeting Link: https://meet.google.com/dpt-zrog-btv). If you haven’t had the opportunity to join it is a wonderful little sober group where we authentically share our thoughts on what we have read in the Big Book that week.

For the past many months we have been going through the diverse array of personal stories in the back. Without fail each one has touched me in some meaningful way. Even if the writer’s circumstances are vastly different from mine, there is always the emotions around alcoholism that ring true 110%. I know that pain, I know that desperation, I know that hope, and I know that serenity. One day I’d like to engage in the personal exercise of ranking the stories for myself. It’ll be interesting to see how they evolve over time depending upon where I am in life and in sobriety.

The “solution” part of these stories is what I look forward to the most nowadays. While the drunkalogues are certainly spicy, I feel so inspired when I hear these strangers I’ve never met (and likely will never meet since many have passed) convey to me in such simple, impactful, and honest language their truth. I often get misty-eyed at how on earth we alcoholics are able to transform so completely after putting ourselves through so much trauma. The strength of the human condition exemplified in the words of these fellows is mesmerizing. It’s such proof positive for me that if I remain disciplined and teachable my life will change. Things will always get complicated because that is the reality of existence, however I will find paths to elegantly traverse through those complications with balance. I can borrow the courage, I can borrow the wisdom of these writers, who have thoughtfully gifted me with their vulnerability, and apply it to my own life.

The story we read at Anyone Anywhere last night was titled “On The Move”. Towards the end on page 493 the author describes how he and his father feel about their lives after years of tumult:

“I think we are both at peace with our pasts and comfortable with the present”

This sorta sounds like Promise #3 (“We will not regret the past nor wish to shut the door on it”), which is one of my favorite Promises. What I appreciate about the above quote is the usage of “peace” and “comfortable”.

I still occasionally revisit drunken escapades, even ones over a decade old, with a tinge of sadness and regret. Time and reflection in the Program have finally brought me to a place where I am at peace with what happened. I realize in order to change my mind on matters I needed to go through that mayhem to get to my current state. It’s just how my brain works – I cannot automagically reform overnight those neural pathways that were calcified by alcohol. Most importantly though, now that I have gained relative stability in life, I can use my story on the regular to identify with other alcoholics, especially newer ones. I can lead with empathy and love rather than judgement or derision for people inside and outside these rooms. I have finally found a purpose for my pain. That evolution is what “peace” with my past means to me in AA.

With his usage of the word “comfortable” I identify with a lot because for many decades I was incredibly uncomfortable with every aspect of me. I was so ashamed about basic facts about my identity that I distorted my story to others for many years, even before I had that first drink, because I thought that revised version would make them like me more and therefore make me feel less ashamed about myself. While I am still very much a work in progress on this front, I can say that today I am more at ease with my identify than ever before. Because I have spent the time on honest self-reflection and regular course correction, I can be comfortable with my daily existence and not constantly fight or be fearful of everyone and everything.

I underscored the above sentence from yesterday’s story because I am amazed at how freely I can get thoughtful solutions from AA and all I have to do is show up and listen. The Big Book’s stories are such amazing examples of humanity’s resilience and optimism. They showcase the best in us when we are able to set aside that drink and open the door to change. I am glad to have taken the time to continue reading beyond the first 164 pages. I’m also excited to finish all the stories one day – and then get to do it all over again with another alcoholic.

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I am so grateful to be sober today. I’m grateful for my family, Timmy and my friends. I’m grateful for meetings this weekend and rest. I’m grateful for coffee, AA, early mornings even though I also hate them, weather that feels like fall and for being present.

Gooood morning my friends (: Hope everyone had a lovely weekend!

Today is a long and busy day and I personally am really wishing for one more day of the weekend. How does Monday sneak up so fast??

I have to be on-site today with some clients and talent for New York Fashion week. I have to be downtown early but hopefully get to come home around 2 where I can finish work and stare longingly at the rescue, we’re hoping to adopt from website to see if they have any new pups. We went to meet a few pups on Saturday, we left empty handed, I am still heartbroken.

Heart break aside the class I registered for starts in a couple of weeks, so I’d love to spend some time today preparing for that as well. And the moral of this play by play of my day today is that I realized late last night that everything is really okay.

I still have the same amount of fear. My therapist told me on Friday that it sounds like what makes me the most uncomfortable is actually my authentic self and that sucked to hear. But that can change.

This on-site today would typically be making me shit my pants with nerves – but I’ve done a million of them before. There’s no fear of someone asking if I want to go to drinks after because I simply do not drink. That’s just a very simple fact for me that doesn’t need to be over thought.

I’m grateful to have a really cool job AND still be aware that it’s time to chase my happiness. Time to open the door for myself which I’m doing by taking this class soon. I’m grateful that we at least got to meet a few pups, understand what we’re looking for and maybe next time, we’ll get to take the dog home that’s meant for us.

I’m grateful someone told me very clearly and directly that it’s me. I am the problem. My uncomfortably stems from me. And while yes, I’ve always known that in one way or another it’s really nice to be learning another set of tools to help my change that. AA is the most wonderful thing, but outside help is great too.

Overall, I just deeply feel like it’s going to be okay. And that might be fleeting. That might be because I’ve been praying consistently again, it might be because I just haven’t had enough coffee or stepped out into the real world yet but all of that is okay too. I don’t have to come up with reasons to NOT feel okay right now. I can just embrace, being present in this moment where everything really is just…fine.

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Xx

Jane

I’m grateful for another early morning. I’m grateful for old friends and people who make me laugh. I’m grateful for the farmer’s market and an afternoon of cooking. I’m grateful for the quiet and the peace in my heart. I’m grateful for what was and grateful to live in what is. I’m grateful to be sober today.

LAST WEEK ON TFLMS:

song of the week:

TFLMS Weekend: Where Sobriety Isn’t Just a Consequence…

(last weekend)

I’m grateful for a super-early, cloudy morning. I’m grateful to be at my desk, drinking coffee. I’m grateful for being where I am. I’m grateful to see the right things show up at the right time. I’m grateful it’s Friday. I’m grateful to be sober today.

Mystery ?? Button

song of the week:

One of my favorite punchlines is “Well, the matador often wins, but sometimes the bull wins, too…” I’m not sure how that’s connected to the song of the week. I think the only ridiculous costume Captain James T. Kirk does not wear in this montage, is a matador costume.1 But I could be wrong.

This marries two loves of mine: Steve Miller and this song, “Space Cowboy,” and, of course, Star Trek. I watched a lot of Star Trek and was undoubtedly profoundly shaped by it somehow. I have no idea how. The song? It’s kind of a battle-anthem,

For some reason, I was thinking about this song when I was on my son’s ship last weekend. The image of him on the bridge of the ship gazing through the super-powerful binoculars is what came up for me. The trip was amazing, but what was more amazing was getting to see him at work. I got to see how much people respect him, how he’s a natural leader, how other people know they can count on him. He has a pretty important job on the ship and the thing that really gets me was the way the Master Chiefs snapped off salutes to him. I saw them occasionally toss semi-relaxed salutes to the other junior officers, but it was different with my Lieutenant, and it was impossible to not notice. You know how proud I said I was last week? Well, double that or something.

Anyway, the video made me laugh and that always moves the needle with me, especially on a Friday that caps an exceptionally busy week for a certain aging veteran. I had snuck down to the 44th floor reception area to get a coffee and a snack, it was about 3:30 and I realized two things:

I’m at a place in life that I really didn’t imagine and it certainly wasn’t part of an intricate plan. It happened when I stopped trying to determine results. It happened when I did my part, the next right thing, showing up as myself, working hard and being kind. This is not me patting myself on the back, it’s me recognizing that those are the things I can do, the things that are usually within my power. How did I get here? To this place where things are really, really okay and I’m happy?

I finally learned what letting go meant.

This is a phrase I actually very much hate. I used to hear this from the therapist-of-the-month or during a stint in rehab or in a 1-on-1 session at the IOP because I had tested positive yet again. When I would spill out whatever it was that was tearing my psyche apart, a relationship, or at work, where I was not sufficiently treasured and adored, I would hear these same words over and over,

You have to let that go.

Here’s the problem: I had no idea what that f****** meant? I used to rant that I’d be all over this “letting go” thing—just give me the instructions and I’m off to the races. No one could give me any more specifics, they’d just repeat themselves,

You have to let that go.

There is a quote attributed to Buddha:

The “not meant for you” part is the heart of this. While I was drinking, while I thought I was driving the boat, I had a pretty solid idea of where we were supposed to be headed and what our ETA should be. Now, I don’t think there is anything wrong with having goals and aspirations; , I think it’s actually really important—but it was more important to realize that I’m just a cog in the great machine of the Universe—whatever that is and however that works.

I’ve been watching a fair amount of “Rick and Morty” lately. For some reason, I’m find myself taking notes on how to be a grandfather—I think there is a lot to be said for Rick’s approach. I like how he uses way over-complicated things to solve routine tasks. I’m very familiar with that mindset, although I don’t have the time-travel thing down. But look out when I do.

Anyway, in one episode, there is a line attributed to Rick about the despair created by the realization that in the vastness of the universe, we are literally nothing. Which is true—at some level. I find myself asking, then why am I here? This next part is an exercise in faith and belief, and reasonable minds will definitely differ on this point, but my own personal belief is that there is some “reason” we’re all here and that we bump into other people’s lives and our own lives bounce around and so on and so on in pursuit of this “reason.”

Maybe it’s true that our entire Universe is encapsulated in a single electron, or that we exist as figments of the imagination of a 13 year-old boy and ChatGPT version 265. I guess it’s possible that everything is random or probabilistic, but in that view, nothing means anything; Life is simply an exercise in making the best of it.

I don’t buy that. I’m not sure how any of this happens, but I think there is a power that binds us together. It doesn’t work, at least for me, by forcing me to do certain things, it seems to work more by eliminating choices for me. This is not a pleasant process, and I have learned that I’m not required to wait until the Universe has shown me that I’m out of choices to make changes. I think we bounce into each other with some elements of randomness, but there is also a purpose.

I think we are meant to learn from each other—the challenge for me was not understanding in advance what it was I was supposed to learn. I’m cool with this learning stuff, but why don’t you tell me what the degree is? But that’s not the point, and that is definitely above my pay-grade. The other hard part was learning to accept that sometimes the lessons were meant for the other person; I was simply an actor in their play, somehow helped them to get from point A to point B. But I didn’t know anything about that, I only knew my part.

That turns out to be the essence of letting go. I think it’s more accurately described as doing my part and trusting that will be enough. I don’t lay awake anymore wishing I had done or said things differently; If only I had done this, or that, things would have turned out differently. Those are the thoughts that drove me to a barstool again and again. The thought that helped me get sober:

The things that are supposed to happen, generally do happen.

Just not on a schedule that I can put on my calendar, or in a way that I can anticipate. I have to believe that whatever happens, well it was something that was supposed to happen for me or someone else. My job is to do my job: Be kind, show up as myself, work hard and gracefully let go of the things that aren’t meant for me.

What is meant for me? I don’t know. It feels like I’ve been waiting for a very long time to find out the answer to this very important question. But then I realize it’s not an important question at all, in fact, it is probably unanswerable. What’s meant for me is the very next moment and the only thing I can change is myself in that moment. I think the things and people that are meant for me, can’t be avoided. The right things have a way of coming around again, like comets orbiting the solar system.

Letting go is actually an exercise in faith and belief and it’s not a negative thing. I think it has more to do with realizing that the pesky right thing will eventually present itself at the right time and in the right way. How will I know? I think we can’t avoid the things that are supposed to happen and that includes the right things. Even if they seem far away for now.

When I headed for the subway home last night, after a very, very busy day, I noticed how happy I was. I was happy when I realized that I had sesame noodles in the fridge; I was happy when the Express 6 pulled up just as I set foot on the platform. I was happy when I got to sit. I was happy as I walked through my lovely, lively neighborhood and so happy when I walked into my apartment, with all of my lovely views, with all of the lovely feelings I get here. I realize—this is the thing that’s supposed to be happening now.

And it’s beautiful, this life I get to lead. It’s full of meaning and possibility. It’s full of personal growth and hard work. It’s full of the right things. The catch is, if you’re holding on to the wrong things, the things from the past that were never yours, or the things that were never meant to be permanent, then there is no room for the right things.

The more I tried to fill my own cup, well, the more Sauvignon Blanc I had to drink.

Letting go turns out to be one of the most important parts of sobriety. I had to let go of the life I thought I was supposed to lead. I had to let go of the belief that I wasn’t enough for the world, as I was. I had to let go of the fear that I would never find my right place in the world. It turns out, it was a lot more straight-forward than I thought. I simply had to recognize that the right place is here and the right time is now. Right where I am. Right where I’ve been placed.

Happy Friday.

I’m grateful for the chill that permeates the air during my morning runs. I’m grateful for our homemade Indian food that’ll last for a few more days. I’m grateful for chairing a NYC meeting I’ve not attended in a while and catching up with the folks in it. I’m grateful getting to celebrate 15 years with a fellow who helped me a lot in the early days. I’m grateful for hearing other people’s take on what Higher Power and spirituality mean to them. I’m grateful for understanding that focusing on self all the time is a harmful, empty way to live. I’m grateful for our shared backyard fence getting fixed. I’m grateful for potentially adding a new evening routine into the mix to promote my serenity. I’m grateful for our home, our car, and our health, and our serenity.

I’ve been thinking a lot more about my Higher Power over the past week. Shares about it at meetings have resonated deeply and I’m noticing my conception of it grow in meaningful ways since moving to Denver. Nearly ever time I read the question Ebby posed to Bill it brings up warm feelings inside me:

“Why don’t you choose your own conception of God?”

His words are incredibly freeing. It reinforces that AA to me isn’t a rigid rule book, an exclusive cult, or a graded homework assignment. This Program simply provides a suggestive framework. My responsibility is to fill in the blanks of that framework with my own beliefs, my own life experiences, and my own ideas. While I can get amazing direction and inspiration from a community of fellows, sponsors, and sponsees, the onus is ultimately on me to use the Big Book’s schematics to build my sober sanctuary.

After my Monday meeting I was driving home and saw the mountains majestically backlit by the setting sun. I was surprised at how I got a little emotional at the sight. Since becoming sober in 2021 a lot of my thoughts around what a Higher Power is have been super conceptual – a loose, diverse array of inspirational beliefs that somehow magically work together to lift me up. As I drove home I realized since coming to Denver these intangible concepts of my Higher Power have become tethered to something distinctly visual for the first time. It is evident during my runs in the neighborhood, as I’m driving around the city, or whenever I’m taking the dog out for a walk. The Front Range mountains that I see daily are the latest addition to my Higher Power composite.

When I see these mountains I’m reminded how they’ve been standing there for thousands of years. Through the entirety of human history their stoic presence has been a constant. They will live long after I’m gone from this Earth and perhaps one day my atomic particles may be a part of them. This somewhat unintentional move around tethering the abstraction of my Higher Power to the clear visual of the mountains have made my spiritual experiences feel more immediately accessible and more regular. When I have a problem weighing me down I walk to the east end of Cheesman Park and stare out at the Rockies. Observing them from afar reminds my brain to give itself space to reflect. When I give myself space to reflect I can more easily put matters in perspective. Having the mountains looming out there during this period of rumination reminds me in a powerful way that something greater than myself exists. Something that has and will outlast any disaster or success I go through. Comprehending that reality brings me back more easily to a place of humility, acceptance, and peace.

When I started my AA journey I never thought the Rocky Mountains would be a core part of how I conceived of my HP. I figured it would likely be forever amorphous because I felt the only way of grounding my spiritual ideas was to tie it to religious stuff, which felt triggering given my upbringing. However, thanks to Ebby’s empowering, inclusive words I can make the choice to update what my HP is at any point and into any form. This most recent development is a powerful personal reminder that if I remain open-minded, if I remain teachable, if I remain curious then my Higher Power can continue evolving in beautiful, unexpected, and welcome ways.

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I am so grateful to be sober today. I’m grateful for a beautiful day, the day off, for extra rest and for coffee. I’m grateful for my friends, my family, for my sponsor and AA. I’m grateful for hope and words of encouragement. I’m grateful for trying my best and having endless amounts of support.

Gooood morning my friends (: As always, I hope everyone had a lovely weekend & I hope everyone who has off today is soaking up every minute of relaxation they can.

Coming to you a little late today not because I forgot but because I myself, am soaking up every minute of relaxation I can this morning. We are going to blink guys and it’s going to be the New Year. I don’t know about anyone else but September – December just goes by at warp speed.

I’m not really sure what to write today, I’ve written & deleted about 60 times this morning because my head is very much so all over the place. Which is super ironic because I did morning pages this morning for the first time in forever which I believe is supposed to help your brain…not be all over the place? Perhaps I’ll just take my work OOO and put it here?

My brain is out of the office in observance of Labor Day…

I think overarchingly, I am VERY afraid about losing all that momentum I had last week (a form of self-sabotage perhaps?). I leapt and I was so excited about leaping with or without the net but there’s all this time now to doubt myself. And I am starting to crush myself with doubts which is most certainty not what I or what I believe HP wants for me.

I started the Artist’s Way (hence the morning pages) with my sponsor yesterday and she said to me (this wonderful, amazing human who I truly do not know what I would do without), that it doesn’t matter if I believe in myself. HP believes in me and so essentially, the only thing I have to do is stay the course.

I don’t want to doubt myself; I want to believe the things my friends tell me, hear and accept the encouragement my family gives me. I want to trust and it’s so god damn hard. But that’s the thing about leaping, I guess. Just like I said last week & I HAVE to listen to my own words – being afraid and doing it anyway is better (to me) that being so unbearably uncomfortable.

In the meantime, my head is becoming progressively more all over the place today and I think I need a healthy reset. Finish writing, put on some music, clean up the apartment and meet some friends for lunch. Sitting in doubt is definitely not the solution and I am committing to not giving up. Not giving up on the leap or myself no matter how scary or overwhelming or hard it may be. Because that’s all part of it isn’t it?

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Xx

Jane