There is something extremely satisfying to me when I look out the window first thing in the morning after a new snow and see the perfectly clean state of the world. No dog prints, no dirty sand sprays from recent plows, no half melted snow forts. It’s just pure, un-touched perfection! I feel this way often when I know I am starting a new day and living an authentic life to the best of my ability. I don’t get perfection like that crisp morning snow, but I do get a clean and un-touched slate every day! And I do get to take advantage of that fresh slate to practice living in my truth.
I recall how years ago I was contacted by the Diocese of St. Cloud. I was shocked that the Bishop's office would reach out to me - but indeed they did. I was asked by the voice on the phone to hold for the Bishop and then to my surprise the Bishop came to the phone.
I just returned from a Christmas cruise with a family group of nine people on Holland America’s new ship, the Niew Statendam. Our group of nine included my wife and myself, our two daughters, two sons-in-law, and three grandchildren. We all get along well.
When I walked into my first Al-Anon meeting fourteen years ago, life as I knew it was over. I didn’t understand that at the time, and I continued to fight desperately against that reality for quite some time. But, still, it was over. The gift of the 12 Steps of Al-Anon is that the life I have today is SO much better than the life I had planned, and the life I thought I should and could have, if only I fought a little harder, and a little longer.
I never asked this question when I was getting sober, but I have heard other people ask it. I thought they were raising unreasonable objections to getting sober or expressing resistance to recovery. Over the years, patients at Hazelden and guests at The Retreat have spoken of their reluctance to recover by saying that they are afraid to recover, because they are afraid of who they might be if they stop drinking or drugging. What will happen, they ask, if they get sober and don’t like themselves, or don’t like who they have become?
When I was a boy, I eagerly read each issue of Mad Magazine. It’s fictional editor, Alfred E. Neuman, had a quote above the index of each issue. One of my favorites was “Some minds are like concrete: all mixed up and permanently set.” A Peanuts cartoon of that era had Lucy shouting “If you can’t be right, be wrong at the top of your voice.” I’m writing this newsletter during the Senate hearings on a Supreme Court nomination. It seems as if nearly everyone is sure that they know what happened at a high school party long ago: the nominee is guilty, or innocent, depending upon whom you ask. I’m not hearing the more humble opinion of “I don’t know, I wasn’t there.”