Learning to love and care for yourself is a topic that often comes up in Al-Anon. I’ve heard people share about how they never had any time to love themselves or take care of themselves because they were always taking care of others. Some people have mentioned having no money with which to take care of themselves, because they are in financial trouble due to the alcoholic’s spending. At one meeting, a lady shared that she didn’t know what it meant to love herself, and if someone would just give her a set of instructions, she could follow that and…

The following article appeared in the Baltimore Sun - it’s worth sharing. Enjoy.

By Rob Hiaasen|Sun reporter

June 29, 2008

“The only concept of god that I believed in at all, when I got here, was the God of Unintended Consequences,” Robert said, sitting across the table from me eating burritos at a taco stand at one o’clock in the morning. “Every time I drank bad stuff happened. I wasn’t trying to wreck my car, or sleep with my friend’s girlfriend, or get arrested. I wasn’t trying to lose my job or get beaten up. It just happened.”

The nature of consciousness is to sort, order, categorize, label, associate, attribute, and differentiate sensory and cognitive information. Our very brains are structurally…

The serenity prayer is, without doubt, one of the most useful — tools, ideas, comforts, guides, whatever you want to call it — that I’ve gotten from my recovery. Like most profound truths, it could hardly be more simple, and yet there is a lifetime of guidance in those few lines.

However, it isn’t guidance that I was able to accept while I was still active in my addictions. Addicts, alcholics and codependents don’t really have the capacity to deal with inaction (which is what, in most cases, the Serenity Prayer mandates). We want to be doing something, making things go…

I was on the phone with a friend one day and she commented on the fact that I was obviously not present in the call. First of all I had no idea what kind of language is “present in the call.” Second, if you were trying to figure out what you could smoke without out harming your unborn child (and I’m not talking Pall Malls) or whether you should deal with that strange wailing coming from your basement you wouldn’t be present either. Third, shut up. She told me she would be right over. Gross.
pllleeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaase go away!

I would so much…

I’ve read that it’s possible to have unconditional love of self in which you love yourself regardless of external conditions. This means being true to your feelings regardless of those around you. Based on what I know from Al-Anon, the HP loves each of us unconditionally. And if I look outside myself for love, I will not find unconditional love from another human. This has been a tough one to understand in my past but now I know that my demands for love often far exceed what the other person can give. And then my expectations of the other become…

“Caliente!”

Absolutely an understatement I thought as I nodded my head in the direction of my latin co-worker. Even hotter for me, four days out of the crack pipe. The hard work feels good, gives purpose to my day and helps me live in the moment. Trying not to fall off the scaffold, read a measurement accurately, cut, drill, etc., at an acceptable rate and quality of work keeps my head out of my empty pocket.

The structure. The relationships. The patterns. The accountability. All these elements coagulate somehow at long last to grant me opportunity to get clean and, most importantly,…

So I found this place - this place called recovery. It sucked. And it saved. The meetings, the coffee, the cookies, that smell of church basements that forced me to remember my Catholic up bringing, any form of sugar I could consume, the ego trips, the eye rolling, the clock watching,  the endless stories - it all somehow made me feel that maybe I could make it.

Maybe I was crazy but so what? I mean if this chick next to me who lost the ability to
add, subtract, and speak because of a binge could show up tonight then I better…

Grief is often overlooked in addiction treatment, and almost universally so by the 12-step programs. It isn’t necessary that this should be the case, since the 4th, 5th, 8th and 9th steps are capable of dealing with it, when used skillfully by a good sponsor and a willing sponsee, and any reasonably competent therapist who is willing to do the research and attend a few seminars can deal with it in group.

I think the reasons are more basic than that: some of the same reasons that gave us an excuse for our abuse of chemicals. Quite simply, human beings instinctively…

Since I have presumed to write about Mind, Body and Spirit for The Second Road, you deserve to know my own positions on related issues.  This is my take on living in general.  You need not feel obliged to agree with any of it, but I hope it makes sense and does not seem too stodgy — a vice of which I have been accused from time to time.

I am currently having an e-mail exchange with a lady I knew at school. She is now a minister, and I think what we are doing in our correspondence is feeling each…

I have recently been involved in a dialogue with some Evangelical Christian folk.  The results have been interesting.

As is often the case, the encounters began with an approach in an attempt to “save” me.  This sort of thing used to really bother me.  Eventually I came to realize that, unlike some lesser species, such as TV evangelists, most Evangelicals are simply trying to do me a favor.  They believe in their hearts that my soul is doomed, and they want to help.  Viewed that way, it is hard to remain insulted or angry.  Annoyed is a different matter.

Buddhists do not…

Hi there, friends and fellow travellers on the gypsy road.  The staff have asked me to write occasionally about mind, body and spirit stuff.  I suppose spirit stuff would be ectoplasm, if you are into that sort of thing.  I hasten to say that I know nothing at all about it.

A few words about meself are in order, I suppose.  I read anthropology and comparative religion at university.  This proves only that I have been interested in mind, body and spirit for a long time.  The fact is, I know no more about it than anyone else, I simply have more…

by Mariclaire

You know I came into this world hesitantly. As an infant I was ill and died three times.
I wasn’t sure about this ride this time. I just wasn’t sure. I remember when I decided to stay.

I had just come home from the hospital after three months of mystery illnesses and was laying on the sofa in our living room. To my left were two windows and on the other side
were my two older sisters and my mom’s mom waving and smiling. To my right, in the room, was my mom. I could feel a prickly heat on my arm.…

Effort/Results

Cause/Effect

Action/Consequence

Seed/Harvest

Persevere in the process

Waiting is an action.

When you don’t know what to do… be still

Time-Takes-Takes-Takes-Takes

In the street I could “bust-a-move.” In the street I could “make” something happen to get what I wanted. Though often active addiction became a waiting game, you usually knew what or who or why you waited. You might be waiting on the man. You might be waiting on your dealer to re-up.

You might be waiting on the right person to hustle, like a lion in the grass, waiting on that lame antelope to come to the watering hole. Always, when you waited, you got the…

A friend of mine recently wrote a blog post referencing my tendency to write yoga-gasms on my blog, and I thought it was a hilarious expression…and then I thought it was more hilarious to shorten it again to yogasm. I do yogasm, a lot…yoga changed my life. It’s a part of the trinity of my recovery…Nar-Anon, yoga, and writing have helped me live through the hardest time I’ve ever had. I’ve got all these tools now, this rich mixed bag…and my stomach looks great, too!

I lured another Nar-Anon friend into the yoga class today, and I’m afraid she’ll never speak to…

Fear. Fear. Fear. “A thousand forms of fear.” “Fear of impending doom.”

Fear breathes. Fear walks. Fear stands outside my window with its nasty nose pressed to the glass, vapor fogging the pane, obscuring my view. Sometimes I can’t hear for the whisper…the voice…the yelling…the screaming…the brass chaotic band that drowns my stillness and tidal waves my peace, my perceptions, my plans.

Fear is real. Fear is imagined. Fear, so much my constant companion…so long my constant companion that in those eye-of-the-hurricane moments, or respite, like the naked, wet survivor of the ship wreck washed upon the shore, spent empty, shocked and…

by Bill W.

June 10th is the 73rd anniversary of the meeting of a stockbroker from New York, only a few months sober and fearful of drinking, and a drunken proctologist from Akron, Ohio.

William Wilson—Bill W., to generations of alcoholics—had tried to stop drinking for many years. A successful stockbroker before the Crash of ‘29, he had made fortunes—and lost them because of his inability to stay dry. Bill had been in and out of hospitals repeatedly, and had been declared an incurable drunk by eminent physicians.

Dr. Robert Smith had tried to dry out many times. He ran a successful medical…

A very dear friend of mine, who was a powerful influence on my early recovery and that of hundreds of others, is fond of remarking that “the Old Me will drink again.” Old Me — the “man who wasn’t there” — plagues us throughout our early recovery, and is even known to poke his (or her) head out of hiding from time to time…

We’d like you all to meet Bill Webb, one of our newest bloggers. His bio will give you a hint of what to expect from him. His writing comes from many years of living life on life’s terms and we are delighted and honored that he has joined our team of writers. Ladies and gentlemen - Bill Webb!

Bill Webb (please don’t call him “Bill W.”) is a recovering alcoholic, addict, and codependent. At various times he has made his living as a lifeguard, pilot, police officer and administrator, executive chauffeur, and at rehab jobs including lab tech, detox tech and…

There is a great tool in the program of recovery that I often use to help me determine if I am in balance or way off.  It is HALT.  I am sure you may have heard of it but if not it stands for:

Hungry

Angry

Lonely

Tired

It is a little acronym to use whenever you are feely funky or just simply off base.  This little acronym holds so many answers to the why’s of moods our addiction can play out in negative ways in our lives.  I was always told early on in recovery if I was feeling squirrelly to HALT…

I cam across this recently and it touched my heart.  May it touch yours.

Till Next Time -

Your Humble Road Warrior

We can’t escape problems and negativity. Escaping just brings denial and suppression - we continue to carry the problem with us. Ironically, it is our lack of acceptance and resistance to the problem that creates the pain. Resistance builds up an energy wall or block that, if not discharged, gets suppressed into the body. These blocks identify places where we have not enough understanding or love.

For health, we must work through what we seek to avoid. How do we do this?…

The Rev. Jose Gabriel Funes, the Jesuit director of the Vatican Observatory, was quoted in a published interview yesterday as saying the vastness of the universe means it is possible there could be other forms of life outside Earth, even intelligent ones. Ruling out the existence of aliens would be like “putting limits” on God’s creative freedom, he said.

The Bible “is not a science book,” Funes said, adding that he believes the Big Bang theory is the most “reasonable” explanation for the creation of the universe, but he said he continues to believe that “God is the creator of the…

My yoga practice has been a crucial part of my recovery for the last six months. I started yoga after working the fourth step and acknowledging that I’d been neglecting to take care of my body while focusing so acutely on my husband. Before discovering my husband’s struggle with addiction, I’d always been something of a health nut, enjoying taking care of my body and the profound ways my physical health improved my mental health. From the moment I found syringes in my house for the first time, however, until working on my neglect of self-care in the fourth step…

By Dave Breslin

Sitting in an open field,

nice weather, feeling content.

Not very much is bothering me now,

thoughts are fairly comfortable in my head.

Thinking back on what I’ve done,

seen, with whom and how.

I realize I might be forever scarred

or then again, blessed somehow.

Maybe this constant pondering mind

is insanity, maybe genius.

Each day’s the same in this life,

what’s left that I have seen in it?

I’ve been through terror, hell, sin and hate,

whichever you might call it.

I’ve felt pleasure, love and bliss

even though it’s rare that I recall it.

I’ve felt joy and lots of pain,

mentally, physically and self inflicted

but from each and every thing I’ve…

By James W.

Posture and Pretense
fade fast away -
Garments of fog
in the heat of the day.

Don’t leave me imprisoned
by the chains of approval.
Help me delight
in the pain of removal.

Each minute that passes
less becomes more.
Each waterfall crisis
splashes joy on my shore.

Kiss me with laughter
as all around me they dance;
the children of freedom
rejoice in romance.

Life… life
I’m living it now.
Blooming inside me. -
I don’t have to know how.

This poem was written by my sponsor, Lee Ann K. as a gift to me. She takes 12 step meetings to our local jail every Tuesday. I love you, Lee Ann.
Ginger B.

Tuesday Nights in Jail

By LeeAnn K.

She told me
How the trustee loves the dandelion.
Now I cannot dig them out
From my little bed.
How can I know what will answer
Another woman’s prayer?

Today, inside the garden,
I wanted to bruise the hyacinths into my skin
So that the scent would follow me
Where the air is not permitted to circulate
And all is unlovely, thrown out, locked up and told
How much they cost.

All habits die hard deaths.
The…

February 26, 2008
Missing Our Old Habits

Whenever we make the effort to free ourselves of an addiction or a habit we no longer need, we are often surprised to find ourselves missing the old pattern as we would a familiar friend. This sounds counterintuitive, because we think we should instinctively gravitate toward what is good for us. Yet, it makes a lot of sense when you consider that we humans are creatures of habit. This is why we gravitate to people and places—and patterns of behavior—that make us feel comfortable. Therefore, many of the habits we form are not conscious and…

They say relapse is a part of recovery. And when I first started hearing it, it didn’t seem to make a lot of sense to me. That was back when I still thought of recovery as an exercise of will; that you make your decision, get the help needed if you need it, then hunker down and bully your way through to the end. Relapsing didn’t seem to fit into that picture at all.
I was 47 years old and, after the ravages of a 12 year love/hate affair with the crack pipe, didn’t have nickel to my name. Nor a…

This article is taken from the January/February issue of “Addiction Professional” by Brion P. McAlarney

From an open hand reaching out with palm up, to hands clasped together, to open hands holding an acorn, Sam T. Barnes has sculpted 12 bronze hands representing each step along the way to recovery. For his meticulous efforts, the retired orthopedic surgeon from Cookeville, Tennessee was one of six adult winners last year in the Fourth Annual Art and Addiction Juried Art Exhibition and Contest, sponsored by the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation’s Innovators Combating Substance Abuse Awards Program at the Johns Hopkins University School of…

Lee Stringer is a writer (Wow! Is he ever a writer), a lecturer, a teacher and a recovering crack addict. He is the author of 3 books, “Grand Central Winter”, “Sleepaway School”, and “Like Shaking Hands with God”, which will be presented one by one when I can find enough accolades to accommodate them. While you are waiting, sample this appetizer.

A Miracle on 14th Street

In may of 1997 I threw in the towel. After 12 years at it I’d had enough of sucking on a crack pipe, enough of hustling the streets, enough of the endless cyclical ellipse of blasting…