Today feels like a good day for a check in. I’ve been writing and sharing… a lot. But I haven’t been posting. Sometimes things feel expansive, like reaching my arms wide is in integrity with what the moment calls for. And sometimes things feel contracted, like lying supine and simply holding myself against the earth is a wiser choice. Lately it’s been the latter. My gratitude these days lies mostly in having the wisdom to know the difference.
There’s been some hugely expansive moments, for which I am also grateful. My teachers both celebrated major milestones in their recovery this year: Rolf, in May, celebrated 30 years of continuous sobriety and Nikki, 20 years, in July. In honoring these anniversaries, I also honor the value of their lives spent in honesty, humility, reflection, acceptance, learning, dignity, sharing, and service- values I hold dear as they have taught me to practice these over the past decade. There are days I cannot believe my good fortune in having such wise mentors placed in my path- and even moreso, that I was able, somehow, to recognize the deep longing I held for the better part of my life for this amount of wisdom, guidance and support.
I’m grateful for my family of origin. I’m grateful my mom was an alcoholic who died young so that I could see what might lie before me. The relationship I have with my mother is one that I now treasure even in present time, as she is always with me. This has been a slow evolution. Early in recovery I saw our conflict and my resentments toward her reckless and harmful behavior (which it was, for sure) as a bit of a bridge too far and one I’d never cross. At some point around year 3 (I think) I began to see my mother differently and I’ve written about what that entailed… but my perspective began to shift, and though the past was still the past, my experience of it had changed dramatically. And my relationship with my father, who is still very much alive and has faced his own challenges, is one of great mutual respect across differences we may have, of acceptance and love, and of genuine trust.
My adoptive recovery family, and especially the Y12SR community, has been, perhaps literally, a lifesaver for me during the past nearly six months. I’ve been graced with the privilege of holding space twice weekly for Y12SR online meetings, and leading and assisting several trainings, talking weekly with dear friends in recovery and attending meetings myself. Getting on my mat, moving in nature, which is where I experience Spirit most directly, and taking care of each other, our home, our tiny garden, and our animals- both adopted and wild- have all been ways I’ve been able to cobble together a steady foundation based in service and connection. And for that I am grateful.
And then there’s been the feelings about all that’s been happening, which I’m somehow able to feel without crumbling. The fear, the horror, the sinking realizations, powerlessness, the resistance, the challenge to allow in fundamental truths… this is a time when I’ve realized more than ever the interconnectedness of all things and the way individualism thwarts the collective- whether we’re talking about the environment, public health, policing, education, politics, or anything else. Individual responsibility and experience and nuances and differences are important- because of the way these impact our shared ability to relate and care for one another. The Yoga Sutras talk about avidya- that which we cannot see, based on individual experience. The formation of ego and our identity around our likes and dislikes and fears creates a self-limiting framework that makes conversation without defensiveness nearly impossible. In fact, avidya is what the Sutras say causes all forms of suffering. I’m far from immune to it all- quite the opposite- and that seems to be the work.
What’s also the work has been learning to feel my feelings, to work with resistance, in order to have the most important conversations across lines of difference. The capacity for restraint, for respectful open dialogue, and for healthy boundary-setting is something I learned in recovery meetings and have had the opportunity to practice in the public sphere as well. I learned to have compassion for where people are, given their lived experiences, even if different from mine. Author Mark Nepo once said something like “Compassion is being able to stand in the stream of another without getting swept away.” Yes. And this also feels like love- the willingness to lean into the truth of a person’s experience without getting caught up in projection (or avoidance, judgment, or self-righteous indignation, thank God).
A final lesson I feel grateful for today is simply the recognition that I have something to offer. For many of us (from conversations, I know I’m not alone in this) feeling like my experience has value, that my stories matter, that how I show up is important, and that I have a purpose and something to offer no matter what’s going on in the world “out there”… feels empowering and energizing. I know this feeling comes and goes- when contraction is necessary it may simply mean I’m to listen, or pause before acting or responding… that is wisdom. I might share that I’m in reflection and taking some more time to check in before making a decision. Boundaries are there for your protection, as much as mine.
All of this has meaning and value in a dominant culture that offers often-confusing messages about productivity, busy-ness, achievement, comparison and competition that seem to run counter to what I have been learning to be true for myself over the past decade. And balancing out the seemingly ever-present need to be “out there” saying, doing, leading, “boss babe”-ing, for me the greatest gift I know I can give is time and attention and care. And that comes when I know I’m doing my work, which helps ground me in what’s right, in the moment, and having that aforementioned “wisdom to know the difference.” It even feels revolutionary at times to take that extra moment to pause, check in, reflect, and choose wise action.
I’ve learned not to count those proverbial chickens before they hatch- and recovery is only one day at a time (aparigraha, aparigraha, aparigraha- I’m given what I need just for today)- but as we say in the South, “God willin’ and the creek don’t rise”, I’ll celebrate eight years of continued sobriety from alcohol and recovery from alcoholism on September 2. I have immense gratitude for the time and attention offered me throughout my recovery- from wise teachers, women in program, students, and anyone else who’s been kind to me these past eight years. You’re Spirit embodied, like we all are. Nothing to earn, no distance to travel, no boxes to check. And we work through our humanity together. For that, I am forever in debt.
Lastly… a little plug. I’ll be guiding “Writing Recovery: Giving Voice to the Heart Within” this Sunday as part of the Yoga of 12 Step Recovery (Y12SR) Leaders Summit and also leading weekly Yoga and Writing Recovery sessions starting soon. Click this little button for more info.
