Tag Archives: higher power

Self-Love + Serenity = A Miracle (Hopefully)

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Even though in the past
I interpreted challenges like these
as evidence that I was somehow deficient,
today I deeply love and accept myself
and I am willing to see myself
with the eyes of love.
Even though I find myself
uncertain of my future,
my AC has gone belly up,
and now the outlets powering
my refrigerator and freezer
are no longer working,
today I deeply love and accept myself
and I am wiling to see myself
with the eyes of love.
Even though I never thought I’d be here,
never thought that at the age of 42
I’d struggle with anxiety and depression,
wondering where I’ll live
and how I’ll make ends meet
for myself and my children,
today I deeply love and accept myself
and I am willing to see myself
with the eyes of love.
I am willing to change and grow.
I am willing to learn new skills.
I am willing to stand in my power.
I am willing to shift this situation.
Now, God, grant me serenity
to accept the things I cannot change,
courage to change the things I can
and wisdom to know the difference.

No End

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Grief:
Non-linear.
Messy.
Unpredictable.
Just when I think to myself
I’ve got this, I’m better,
suddenly,
I’m back down on my knees
by the side of my bed
sobbing the Serenity Prayer
to some Higher Power
I hope exists
but whose presence
I cannot quite feel
in those moments
of deep sadness and disconnection.
I turn back to my breath.
I sigh out the deep pain,
but it keeps coming,
the tears keep coming.
Is there no end to this?

The One Source

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The path of grace is elusive,
like the path of healing,
or the path of awakening…
You can’t find IT…
You must let IT find you.
And maybe,
could it be
that grace
and healing
and awakening
are all intertwined,
or better yet,
flowing from the same source?
What if all those
going in search of anything
finally recognized
that we are all seeking
the same thing?
What if we all finally took a moment
to just sit still, and breathe,
and remember
the One Source of Everything?

Closer to Peace

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Healing isn’t linear.
As much as we want it to be,
as much as we want to control this process,
there comes a moment
when we need to submit,
surrender to the Divine Will,
and let go into the inevitable.
There is no neat line to walk on,
only spirals and curves
and portals to different dimensions…
quantum realities,
awaiting our observation,
our awakening.
I’ve discovered
that trying to control
leads to more struggle,
but breathing,
accepting where I am now,
and praying earnestly
brings me closer to peace.
If you are suffering in this moment,
this is my wish for you:
That you breathe,
accept where you are now,
and pray to your Higher Power
with an earnest heart,
that you may be brought
closer to peace.

I Surrender

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I have to work hard to stay clear,
present, awake, open.
When my beautiful children mention going to dinner
to celebrate their dad’s birthday
with the other woman,
when they say her name,
I just want to vomit.
I want to stomp up and down
and scream out
THIS ISN’T FAIR.
But I’m attending two 12 step meetings
every week now,
and I know enough by now
to turn this one over to my Higher Power.
Now God, show me how to contain myself.
Show me how to be an adult.
Show me how to forgive.
Show me what to do with this sadness.
I give up.
I surrender.
Now can you take this pain away?

True Grace

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Little by little
the awakening comes.
Can I be patient?
Can I love the one
who needs time to learn?
Self-acceptance begins
with radical honesty.
Can I look at the parts
I’ve been rejecting,
the parts I’ve been ashamed of,
and hold them tenderly,
just allowing them to be?
When I stop fighting with reality
a space opens up within me,
and I can see rightly.
I pray:
May I trust in this process.
May I surrender to the One
who knows me better than
I know myself.
May I allow this One
to open my eyes, mind,
body, and heart
to this moment as it is.
May I know true grace.

The Last Day of February

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The blossoming always comes at the perfect time.

Patience, and trust that the blossoming will occur in the perfect time, space and sequence.

I decided in January that I would be exploring the Twelve Steps in some form during the twelve months that I have committed to daily posts.  Today is the last day of February, the second month, so it only seems fitting that I wrap up with some work on the second step. I wrote a good bit of this post a week ago, but never got around to polishing it to my liking.  Hopefully today I can post writing that is enough in congruence with what I’m feeling that it rings with authenticity, if not for everyone else, then at least for myself.

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Step Two is the rallying point for all of us. Whether agnostic, atheist, or former believer, we can stand together on this Step. True humility and an open mind can lead us to faith, and every  meeting is an assurance that God will restore us to sanity if we rightly relate ourselves to Him.
-from http://www.aa.org

February 20, 2014

Nearing the end of February, and I find myself wanting to reflect more and more on the second step of the Twelve Steps. Tonight I spent some time researching Rageaholics Anonymous. I even found a phone meet-up and wondered if I would have the courage to join in on one of the conference calls.  There don’t seem to be any meetings in Baltimore; I would prefer to meet face to face with people, but I suppose a conference call is better than doing nothing at all.

My therapist suggested that I find an AA meeting in town.  Without too much effort I could present myself as an alcoholic, he suggested, and then I would gain admission to the group.  He cautioned me that if I tried to join saying that I’m actually a rageaholic but that I want to be part of a group, they  might not let me in.

Sure, I could present myself as an alcoholic.  I have turned to drink many times when I felt sad, or angry, or uptight.  I relied on drinking when I felt nervous in a social setting and wanted to “take the edge off.”  I have been so drunk that my body began to violently reject what I had poured into it, in an effort to save itself from being poisoned, evidence of its impulse to survive at all costs.  I have driven when I certainly shouldn’t have, and was lucky enough to not hurt anyone or myself.  I have allowed drinking to cloud my mind so that I wouldn’t experience true connection with my family or myself.  Sure, I could pass for an alcoholic.  Because I might actually be an alcoholic.  It doesn’t really matter that I haven’t had a drink since last August and that I haven’t missed it much at all.  The truth is, I have engaged in many addictive behaviors in my lifetime, the consequences of which I am not the least bit proud.  I want to explore these behaviors in the context of an established system that has proven results, if one is willing to do what needs to be done.  I think I am.

It would be nice to join a group.  I think in the end what I’m really looking for is connection, for support, a sense of being a part of something, being included.  Could I find this connection with myself, support myself, include myself?  I think I wouldn’t be asking these questions if I were already capable of such self-honoring.

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February 28, 2014

It’s the last day of February and I’m exhausted from four sleepless nights in a row.  The Wellbutrin is having its way with me. I’m not supposed to be looking for an improvement in my mood before two weeks have passed, and this is the minimum window of time in which one can expect for the drug to take effect.  And there is the painful irony:  I’m taking this medicine with hopes of someday feeling better, but while waiting for that to happen, I’m being deprived of rest, of respite from my neurotic mind. I feel myself slipping into a downward spiral of impatience, resentment, anxiety, overwhelm, loneliness, sheer exhaustion, and I’m just feeling a whole lot worse.  It isn’t supposed to be like this, is it?

And yet, I am a mother.  I must be there to take care of my kids, to provide for their needs.  I’m getting caught up in my thoughts, and my son or daughter is whimpering, calling out.  They’re getting fussy with one another.  My son resists having his diaper changed and gets poop all over his hands, his legs.  My daughter doesn’t go willingly to the bathroom on her own; she needs to be coaxed, offered incentives.  Making lunch seems like a huge, nearly insurmountable task, all I want to do is lie down, rest, and let someone else be the mother.

But I push through, and inside, I am screaming.  My son scampers out of the room and starts pulling things off of bookshelves, out of drawers.  He does this while I’m trying to help my daughter with a puzzle that is probably too complex for her.  I dash after the boy to clean up the messes he has made, to avoid the worsening of the messes–and my daughter cries out in frustration because she has reached an impasse and needs my help.  I am running back and forth, from room to room, the house is in disarray.  I want rest. Inside I am screaming.

It is 1:41pm, and the kids are in their rooms for nap time. I take a deep breath.  I’m looking forward to teaching restorative yoga tonight; it might be the only moment today in which I experience peace, centeredness, stillness.  I take another deep breath, peace is now. Only now.

The second step reads:

I came to believe that a power greater than myself could restore my life to sanity.

As I look back on what I’ve experienced the past two months, and as I look forward into the third month and the third step, I feel pretty complete in this moment, as far as my step work goes.  I don’t have a group or a sponsor, but I do believe that a power greater than myself can restore my life to sanity.  Maybe the higher power is God, maybe it’s Wellbutrin, who knows?  All that is really important here is my belief.

And I do believe.