You’ve heard of “peace and quiet.” I suggest we change the phrase to “peace and now.” Now is quiet – maybe not outside of us, but internally…spiritually. At the core of who we truly are, now is silent and cannot be altered.
Sounds too easy? It is and it’s not. I’m reading Eckhart Tolle’s “The Power of Now,” and I’m in a section toward the back of the book titled, “Give Up the Relationship with Yourself.” What? Isn’t our recovery about RECOVERING our own relationship with ourselves. It’s the same thing. Just roll with it for a minute and I’ll do my best to explain.
It’s this idea: “If you develop a sense of identity based on your [victimhood, loss, recovering-parenthood, etc.] you have escaped one trap only to fall into another.” (That’s a direct quote from the book except for the parens). This is because any identity other than your pure essence (some might say “God”) is frought with some earthly or ego-centered frailty at one point or another.
Here’s the peace in NOW: Right now I am this breathing body filled with the spirit of life. If, tomorrow, I experience a trauma and my mind/body experiences intense pain of some sort or another, at any given moment I am still this breathing body filled with the spirit of life. What I’m trying to get to is this question (which we’ve discussed before in a different context): How do you identify yourself? I’m thinking that the answer to this question begins any person’s true recovery.
I’m really just thinking through this “out loud” here on this screen. But I’m experiencing access to an always-accessible quiet of “Peace and Now” lately. And this time it’s not just because my boys are in full recovery – because one of them had a relapse recently. He had a relapse and I started to re-identify with my “parent-of-addict-filled-with-fear-and-worry” self again. But I was reading this book, and I find I’m changing a bit in my ability to … as A Course in Miracles says … “See things differently.”
Please know I’m not lecturing or making light of where you are, what you’ve been through, or what you’re feeling. I’m just sharing an idea that might help others as it’s helping me today. Right now. God bless you.
Posted in Addict Child, Addiction, Codependency, Healing, Hope, Parent of addict, Recovering Child, Recovery, Relapse, Spiritual Growth, Support Community, The Ongoing Story, Uncategorized, Women
I suppose 4AM is “this morning” (even though it still feels like night). Either way, here I am writing prayers. I received a call an hour ago from Mike – my Ex – that he received a call that Al is in the hospital – possible overdose. So much for my cell-phone-detachment bragging rights. We’ve had about four months of clean living in our family and I’m grateful for that. And we’ve done this drill before. Maybe I can approach it with some sense of serenity.
Anyway, over these months I’ve been writing Scripture-based prayers for all of my children, and in support of Al, I’m posting a couple of his here:
Psalm 42:5 “God, sometimes Al is discouraged. Sometimes he is sad. I pray that you guide him so that he puts his trust in you. So that he knows that you are his Savior and his God!”
Psalm 25:4-5 “Dear Lord, show Al the right path. Point out the right road for him to follow. Lead Al by your truth and teach him; for you are the God who saves him. All day long, may he put his trust in You.”
I join in prayer for all of you and your children. I’m going to try to go back to sleep, since right now, the best thing I can do is stay rested and well. May God’s peace be with you all.
“The successful person has the habit of doing things failures don’t like to do, they don’t like doing them either necessarily. But their disliking is subordinated to the strength of their purpose.” – E.M. Gray
Interesting. I have just entered the field of real estate sales in South Carolina. My sales coach used this quote at the very beginning of training session #1 as he explained the difference between the 10% of salespeople who make 90% of the sales – and everybody else.
Today, I found this same quote opening an article on addiction management. This confirms for me something I’ve become to realize: the formula for success is very much the same, whatever your goal, and whatever your psychological condition. Overweight due to inactivity? Get up and exercise. Lonely due to shyness? Go out to social events. Not making enough sales? Call that list of contacts you feel too nervous to call. Experienced an addiction relapse? [fill in the blank]
This is not to make light of any of these things. Some surely are easier than others. But the underlying theory is the same — hence the quote showing up in my life in two very different contexts.
Below is a link to an article that helped me frame my thinking about relapse. This article, and the site overall, is worth your time. Please take a look and tell me what you think! God bless!
Preventing Relapse | Addiction Management.
Some of you have been living with this already, I know. Last night Dan’s dad had to let him go to the streets. We discovered he has taken things from our homes to pawn to get drug money. We drew that boundary awhile ago — steal from us and you’re out. So he’s out. I guess I can be thankful the snow is gone and we’re having warm weather. Last time we kicked him out he lived in his car. But now he has no car…and no phone. So he’s out there somewhere. Takin’ it to the streets.
p.s. This Sunday, Easter Day, will be one year since that first phone call from the police — the first time I heard the word “heroin” in connection to my boy. Interesting timing.
Prayers to all. And much love. And God’s blessings in whatever form they need to take to let you know that we are not alone. XOXO
Dan came home from Rehab 2 yesterday. Not home to my house though; home to his dad’s. I was nervous. The hardest part is not knowing what to expect. I do see some differences this time though:
He’s not talking like it’s going to be easy. The first time he came out of rehab, he talked idealistically about how he was changing his life. He was full of rose-colored optimism. Constantly reassuring me. And he was lying the whole time. Using the whole time. Now, he’s talking about the struggle. About how he hopes he can make it. How he hopes he can grow strong enough to serve as an example to others. But he knows it will be hard. He told me, “I’m doing my best mom. I hope I can do it. I think I can. But please know that I might mess up.” Realism. A good sign.
He will drive 30 miles to his after care counseling three times a week. He is not arguing against this. Last time he insisted that he didn’t need support. This time, he says he realizes the only way he can make it is to have a support system in place.
So I’m hoping. But there is that little knot in my stomach. The good news — it’s not there all the time. I don’t think about it all the time. I am sleeping. I am focusing on my other children, my job, my house and not obsessing on Dan and addiction all the time. Another new start for Dan. Another new start for the family.
Praying for you all, and grateful for your support!
Today is one of those sad days. It was preceded by happy days. I had stopped writing here for awhile because things were going along fairly smoothly and I was happy to take a break from defining myself as “the mother of an addict.” But here I am again.
Today my ex husband discovered that there were checks missing from his checkbook. He called the bank and yes, indeed, my addict son had stolen checks from his dad and written them to himself and cashed them. Then my ex realized he had a box of checks up in his closet. He took a look for them and found that one whole set of checks was missing. He called the bank and closed his account. It’s a sad day.
My son called and cried when he realized we knew. There are two of him. The real one and the addict. And we see who’s winning.
My prayers are continual. And I feel like … I feel like my son has died, and yet there can be no funeral. As if he has been kidnapped maybe; only there is no ransom we can pay to get him back.
I was sure I posted about this several days ago.
My addict son relapsed. Truth: he relapsed the day after he got home from rehab. I found him in the garage, needle in hand, Monday night. I told him to leave. It makes me sick — his shooting up, being out on the street, the lies, my boy…gone. I feel like my son is dead. I am emotionally shut off from him and I don’t know how to love him.
What happens now?
Prayer is all I have left where he is concerned. And I know that God can heal all things, is stronger than all things, and loves my boy more than I do. Prayer is all I have.