I feel like Kramer… always running into a meeting or a class, sliding in on my heels - arms flinging as I slam the door open and rush into take my place….whether it be a class at the gym, a doctor’s appointment, a meeting or even coming home, it seems that all I do is rush, rush, rush.  Take yesterday, for example.  I had my day all planned out (yeah, like that’s really going to work).  I had just been to an amazing symposium on addictive disorders and was going to spend the entire day researching and processing all the information I received over the week-end.

I started out really well - got to the office on time but about 10:30 I suddenly remembered that I had volunteered to donate platelets, a procedure that takes about 90 minutes at our local Blood Services office.  I ran to the car, drove like a bat out of hell, “Kramered” into the Blood Bank and got the job done.  At least I had to sit still for over an hour.  Of course, I was on the phone, looking over notes from the symposium - you know….good, centered, quality time.

I ran back to the office and before I knew it I was in the groove again….researching all the connections I had made at the symposium.  Phone rings - a friend calls and asks if I can pick up her kid from school - she’s overbooked her own afternoon and isn’t able to be in two places at one time (Do you see a theme here?).  “Of course I can,” says the poster child for CoDA.  At the appointed time I pick up the child and deposit her back in the office so I can continue working.  She is picked up and before I realize it, the clock says 6:00pm and I realize that I have to get home to medicate one of my dogs (I’m already an hour late with this dose)  - but first I have to run to the pet food store AND the grocery store since both my canine and human food shelves are empty.

I “Kramer” home about 7:00, feed and medicate the doggies, throw a load of  laundry into the washer, shove some  food into my mouth and am trying to get out the door so I can “Kramer” to my meditation class where I can sit still for 90 minutes and “be in the moment.”  It is then that I see my doggies, all six of them, sitting in the kitchen, looking at me with that “Are you leaving again?” look on their faces, and I actually stop for a moment, take a deep breath and hear that little voice that is whispering, “I think you’ve tried to cram more than enough into one day.  STOP!!!!”  And I realize that the term “recovery” is like a pretty spider web that just keeps extending from a central core.  The longer I am clean and sober and the more I “live” my life, the bigger the recovery picture gets.  I am slowly learning that “enough” is a word that is still not comfortable to me. This time I listened to the voice, put on my gym shoes, and took the doggies out to the back woods and let them run.  Then we all came home, ate yummies, crawled into bed, cuddled and went to sleep.

That was just enough for one day.

Till Next Time -

Your Humble Road Warrior