"It's like God's looking right at you, just for a second, and if you're careful..."
"... if you're careful... you can look right back."
"And that's the day I realized there was this entire life behind things, and... this incredibly benevolent force, that wanted me to know there was no reason to be afraid, ever... it helps me remember... and I need to remember... Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world I feel like I can't take it, like my heart's going to cave in."
"I guess I could be pretty pissed off about what happened to me, but it's hard to stay mad when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once, and it's too much. My heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst. And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it. And then it flows through me like rain. And I can't feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life"
Sometimes, I spend the day in search for a moment that, like a soap bubble, would reflect a sun ray into million little rainbows and then "pop" on my freckled cheaks much like a needed kiss. When I lose myself on this desperate hunt my mind scatters. By thinning its attention span it prohibits me from focusing on what I am truly bound for.
There are other times when my eyes tire of running back and forth in my cluttered mind; that mind that longs for a godly incident to inspire my soul into reanimation. It is that slow paced, nonchalant, without a care attitude that then invites and receives these gifts.
Today was lazy. I felt very self absorbed. Actually, I don't think that that is the correct word for it. I would say it felt more like the past had enveloped me and I willingly caved in. Did I want to leave it? No. I had relinquished my hold on those memories busy with my attempts to supress them. I left them behind before and did not wish to do so again. It was a memory in which I cherished fondly. That at the time I held on dearly convinced I could tame it to be loyal to me. Beauty needs to flow, happiness needs to drip through my every being without constraint. Fear of losing it is a little rediculous because when you let it go there is then room for something more to take over. And then you repeat the cycle.
I forced myself to dress, to slap on a little bit of make up and straighten my hair. I wanted to do these things to lessen my self loathing. I went to the Survival meeting dragging my feet as if chained to a bowling ball that would roll to the back of my ankles forcing an advance. I entered the room in a daze and was almost annoyed by the friendly people and their approach. "Damn, what is it with everyone and their enthusiastic conversations? When I feel most antisocial is when I am coerced into half moon smiles and a false sense of patience." I stood for a few minutes pretending to be interested, pretending to be involved in their recap of the day when in actuality I only wanted to pour myself some coffee and sit my disease of addiction in my well deserved seat. I always gravitate towards the front of the auditorium, preferably on the left hand side of the stage. There I saw my dear friends who flocked to me with their embraces and I was glad I made it "home". Until, I heard it was medallion night. "Oh, great," I thought sarcastically. It isn't so much that it bothers me the recount of the addicts' past year struggle and how they remained clean. Rather, it pains me a bit that I am not there yet. Which, sounds ludicrous to me because if I remain honest&willing I will be there.
I'm not sure why it is that the weekend meetings instill such an uncomfortable sensation that it ensues uncontrollable giggling. But, I stopped and quieted my mind in order to listen to the message.
You know what? I am forever grateful that I went and stayed for the evening. Mind you, if I would have awoken in time for the afternoon meeting I probably would not have gone to the night one. God's will took me there tonight. Why? Because, I received a gift far beyond my understanding. Far beyond my effort. Far beyond my expectations which I fight so hard to control. A very dear woman to me picked up her four year medallion this month. It is strange, really. Someone that I hardly speak to has touched me in such a way that when I don't see her I miss her. We catch each other's glances, smile with such fierceness, and hug like lost-but-now-found friends. I realize that words are such a miniscule part of communication. I can only tell you that I, and I do think a part of her too, dances when our spirits sense each other. My body language must confess volumes. Listen, simply because not many words have been shared between us does not mean we do not know who we are. She knows me, I was her. I know her, she was me.
Cut to the chase, yeah? This beautiful lady who has affected me so presented her four year medallion to me. On stage, on a microphone, in front of about a 100 addicts, she professed her belief in me. She walked down the six steps of stairs where I got up (hesitantly but ushered by my friends next to me) to receive her hard earned silver medallion. Better than the cold metal in my hands was the warm tears down my face and the loving reassurance she whispered in my ear. I cringed when she let go. I wanted so badly to hold on to her convictions that I will succeed because there are these obstacles within my head that deny me such reassurance. I slumped down in my seat my eyes glued to the words on that piece of metal. My friends cried with me. I don't believe it was joy for me but instead a joy they shared WITH me. At that moment we all felt that recovery is then possible. One of them turned to me and with a quivering lip said, "Laura, we can do this. We really can." I could only nod. I know we can, I know I can, but the fear of failure nests in the back of my throat. I have been taught though that I can only fight a battle at a time and that these battles are measured on a daily basis. With "one day at a time" on my side I will persevere. God willing I will slither, crawl, walk, run and soar to the other side that awaits me.
"THAT NO ADDICT SEEKING RECOVERY NEED EVER DIE..."
"And that's the day I realized there was this entire life behind things, and... this incredibly benevolent force, that wanted me to know there was no reason to be afraid, ever... it helps me remember... and I need to remember... Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world I feel like I can't take it, like my heart's going to cave in."
"I guess I could be pretty pissed off about what happened to me, but it's hard to stay mad when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once, and it's too much. My heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst. And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it. And then it flows through me like rain. And I can't feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life"
Sometimes, I spend the day in search for a moment that, like a soap bubble, would reflect a sun ray into million little rainbows and then "pop" on my freckled cheaks much like a needed kiss. When I lose myself on this desperate hunt my mind scatters. By thinning its attention span it prohibits me from focusing on what I am truly bound for.
There are other times when my eyes tire of running back and forth in my cluttered mind; that mind that longs for a godly incident to inspire my soul into reanimation. It is that slow paced, nonchalant, without a care attitude that then invites and receives these gifts.
Today was lazy. I felt very self absorbed. Actually, I don't think that that is the correct word for it. I would say it felt more like the past had enveloped me and I willingly caved in. Did I want to leave it? No. I had relinquished my hold on those memories busy with my attempts to supress them. I left them behind before and did not wish to do so again. It was a memory in which I cherished fondly. That at the time I held on dearly convinced I could tame it to be loyal to me. Beauty needs to flow, happiness needs to drip through my every being without constraint. Fear of losing it is a little rediculous because when you let it go there is then room for something more to take over. And then you repeat the cycle.
I forced myself to dress, to slap on a little bit of make up and straighten my hair. I wanted to do these things to lessen my self loathing. I went to the Survival meeting dragging my feet as if chained to a bowling ball that would roll to the back of my ankles forcing an advance. I entered the room in a daze and was almost annoyed by the friendly people and their approach. "Damn, what is it with everyone and their enthusiastic conversations? When I feel most antisocial is when I am coerced into half moon smiles and a false sense of patience." I stood for a few minutes pretending to be interested, pretending to be involved in their recap of the day when in actuality I only wanted to pour myself some coffee and sit my disease of addiction in my well deserved seat. I always gravitate towards the front of the auditorium, preferably on the left hand side of the stage. There I saw my dear friends who flocked to me with their embraces and I was glad I made it "home". Until, I heard it was medallion night. "Oh, great," I thought sarcastically. It isn't so much that it bothers me the recount of the addicts' past year struggle and how they remained clean. Rather, it pains me a bit that I am not there yet. Which, sounds ludicrous to me because if I remain honest&willing I will be there.
I'm not sure why it is that the weekend meetings instill such an uncomfortable sensation that it ensues uncontrollable giggling. But, I stopped and quieted my mind in order to listen to the message.
You know what? I am forever grateful that I went and stayed for the evening. Mind you, if I would have awoken in time for the afternoon meeting I probably would not have gone to the night one. God's will took me there tonight. Why? Because, I received a gift far beyond my understanding. Far beyond my effort. Far beyond my expectations which I fight so hard to control. A very dear woman to me picked up her four year medallion this month. It is strange, really. Someone that I hardly speak to has touched me in such a way that when I don't see her I miss her. We catch each other's glances, smile with such fierceness, and hug like lost-but-now-found friends. I realize that words are such a miniscule part of communication. I can only tell you that I, and I do think a part of her too, dances when our spirits sense each other. My body language must confess volumes. Listen, simply because not many words have been shared between us does not mean we do not know who we are. She knows me, I was her. I know her, she was me.
Cut to the chase, yeah? This beautiful lady who has affected me so presented her four year medallion to me. On stage, on a microphone, in front of about a 100 addicts, she professed her belief in me. She walked down the six steps of stairs where I got up (hesitantly but ushered by my friends next to me) to receive her hard earned silver medallion. Better than the cold metal in my hands was the warm tears down my face and the loving reassurance she whispered in my ear. I cringed when she let go. I wanted so badly to hold on to her convictions that I will succeed because there are these obstacles within my head that deny me such reassurance. I slumped down in my seat my eyes glued to the words on that piece of metal. My friends cried with me. I don't believe it was joy for me but instead a joy they shared WITH me. At that moment we all felt that recovery is then possible. One of them turned to me and with a quivering lip said, "Laura, we can do this. We really can." I could only nod. I know we can, I know I can, but the fear of failure nests in the back of my throat. I have been taught though that I can only fight a battle at a time and that these battles are measured on a daily basis. With "one day at a time" on my side I will persevere. God willing I will slither, crawl, walk, run and soar to the other side that awaits me.
"THAT NO ADDICT SEEKING RECOVERY NEED EVER DIE..."