transmit the message to the receiver, hope for an answer some day
My list of activities and obligations is increasing. This is what I wanted; however, there must be caution and preparation in case this is a blip. Of course, more optimistically, this could be a longterm situation. As my quality of life improves, there is more opportunity and possibility of being a productive member of society and contributing to those around me.
Lately there has been more activity on nearly every front. The most important lesson aside from burnout and fatigue, is that each activity and commitment can only be fully accomplished and achieved with dedication and consistency. In AA, not only are there 12 steps but there are 12 traditions. Briefly, I have heard the comment that the steps help an individual function; the traditions help the individual function with other individuals. The 5th tradition stresses the singleness of purpose (actually, they all do). But Tradition 5 explicitly notes that without a focus on alcoholism and alcoholism alone, unity will suffer --which is the 1st tradition. As a personal email once stressed, we live in an interdependent society and thus must function together. This is not new; in US history there is that adage from Franklin (or Henry?) about hanging together or dying alone.
I don't want to die alone. I don't want to retreat into song lyrics (like the title of this entry) or into sloppy historical references (see above). What is necessary, of course, is to understand who I am and what I am capable of accomplishing. My training is excellent, overall and now is the time to progress and apply my skills.
Right now, I am feeling rather fatigued. Yet I write because it provides comfort and release. It enables me to function better. It cannot be stressed enough that running really helps with that as well. The song lyric title is from "Life During Wartime" by Talking Heads and honestly I can't help but think of the other lyric from that song I wanted to use as the title "This ain't no foolin' around. No time for dancin' or lovey dove. I ain't got time for that now." Those are the lyrics directly preceding the title, actually.
But to relate it all --am I changing too much too quickly? Is this simply a manic moment? Or, to refer to The Smiths --has the world change or have I changed?
Indeed I have changed. I've become a human being, which was my dream all along. Next week I have 2 professional commitments (meeting with a professor to discuss TESOL and taking a test to prove certification for a job). Mother is having surgery on Thursday and I have my planned parenthood appointment on Tuesday. It looks like I won't have therapy next week. There are some other, smaller tasks that need accomplishing. So much progress so quickly has helped me to forget that those smaller tasks (such as ordering medicine, helping an uncle run errands, getting bloodwork done) used to be major accomplishments.
I don't mean to flatter or demean myself. Again, I went from a very troubled individual and found ways to recover and cope and change. Granted, it did take surgery which fundamentally altered my physical being and the joining of a 12 step program. While my aspirations were never of the lofty "be president" or "be an athlete" variety, I still have goals and dreams.
I take pride and comfort in knowing that I have now become an example of change. I can only hope that I continue on this path and that someone learn from my example. For better or worse, no matter how much doubt and insecurity I may have of myself, I remain confident that I can now help myself and others. I musn't lose sight of any of this; I've gone from mess to success.
But that doesn't mean it's over. It's never over. If you'll indulge another historical reference, in 1914 Edward Abbey said something about the lights going out in Europe, a result of WW1. So I'll conclude with a kernel of lyrical wisdom from 2011 --"all we can hope for is a light that shines on after we're gone." The light is on; the light burns eternal.
Lately there has been more activity on nearly every front. The most important lesson aside from burnout and fatigue, is that each activity and commitment can only be fully accomplished and achieved with dedication and consistency. In AA, not only are there 12 steps but there are 12 traditions. Briefly, I have heard the comment that the steps help an individual function; the traditions help the individual function with other individuals. The 5th tradition stresses the singleness of purpose (actually, they all do). But Tradition 5 explicitly notes that without a focus on alcoholism and alcoholism alone, unity will suffer --which is the 1st tradition. As a personal email once stressed, we live in an interdependent society and thus must function together. This is not new; in US history there is that adage from Franklin (or Henry?) about hanging together or dying alone.
I don't want to die alone. I don't want to retreat into song lyrics (like the title of this entry) or into sloppy historical references (see above). What is necessary, of course, is to understand who I am and what I am capable of accomplishing. My training is excellent, overall and now is the time to progress and apply my skills.
Right now, I am feeling rather fatigued. Yet I write because it provides comfort and release. It enables me to function better. It cannot be stressed enough that running really helps with that as well. The song lyric title is from "Life During Wartime" by Talking Heads and honestly I can't help but think of the other lyric from that song I wanted to use as the title "This ain't no foolin' around. No time for dancin' or lovey dove. I ain't got time for that now." Those are the lyrics directly preceding the title, actually.
But to relate it all --am I changing too much too quickly? Is this simply a manic moment? Or, to refer to The Smiths --has the world change or have I changed?
Indeed I have changed. I've become a human being, which was my dream all along. Next week I have 2 professional commitments (meeting with a professor to discuss TESOL and taking a test to prove certification for a job). Mother is having surgery on Thursday and I have my planned parenthood appointment on Tuesday. It looks like I won't have therapy next week. There are some other, smaller tasks that need accomplishing. So much progress so quickly has helped me to forget that those smaller tasks (such as ordering medicine, helping an uncle run errands, getting bloodwork done) used to be major accomplishments.
I don't mean to flatter or demean myself. Again, I went from a very troubled individual and found ways to recover and cope and change. Granted, it did take surgery which fundamentally altered my physical being and the joining of a 12 step program. While my aspirations were never of the lofty "be president" or "be an athlete" variety, I still have goals and dreams.
I take pride and comfort in knowing that I have now become an example of change. I can only hope that I continue on this path and that someone learn from my example. For better or worse, no matter how much doubt and insecurity I may have of myself, I remain confident that I can now help myself and others. I musn't lose sight of any of this; I've gone from mess to success.
But that doesn't mean it's over. It's never over. If you'll indulge another historical reference, in 1914 Edward Abbey said something about the lights going out in Europe, a result of WW1. So I'll conclude with a kernel of lyrical wisdom from 2011 --"all we can hope for is a light that shines on after we're gone." The light is on; the light burns eternal.