Tag Archives: higher power

No End


Just when I think to myself
I’ve got this, I’m better,
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


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


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


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
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


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


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.


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.


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.

Faith and the Second Step


Ahh, don’t you just love Google searching? I do. I wanted to explore the second step of the twelve step program, so I googled “Step 2 reflections 12 steps” and bam!  I came across a gem of a reflection that perfectly expressed what it’s like to move from rock heavy, stuck in place doubt, to finding little places of movement, lightness, willingness to see from a different perspective, to give something else a chance to exist (in our minds).

Here’s an excerpt from the reflection, written by a member of Alcoholics Anonymous:

My sponsor said “Do you believe that I have a God of my understanding?” I said “Yeah, I think you probably have one.” He said “Do you believe that I am sober?” And, I said, “Yes. I believe you are sober.” Then, he said, “If I’m an alcoholic, then how am I staying sober?” I said…. “Geez, I don’t know. How are you staying sober?” (I guess you can tell by my brilliant intelligence, that in some areas I’m obviously a slow learner!).

So he tried again. “Do you believe in any kind of Higher Power?” I said, “I’m not sure.” He said “would you be willing to believe in a Higher Power?” I said that “I’m not sure if I can.” He said “How do you think all the alcoholics in A.A. are staying sober?” And, I said “They have a God, they have a Higher Power.” And, then he said “Well can you go to A.A. meetings and believe that the alcoholics there have a Higher Power that is keeping them sober?” And, I said “Yeah. I can do that.” He said, “Then I want you to go to meetings and be around A.A.’s who have a Higher Power. Hang out with them. And, start praying to whatever Higher Power that you think is around there that you can come to believe in it.” I said “Okay. I can do that.”

I’m not totally sure when it happened. But over time, I was able to discover many powers that were greater than me. Here’s an example. Try to jump up in the air and just stay there. Try it more than once. If you are able to succeed my hat is off to you. You are a power greater than the power of gravity. I’m not.

If you do not believe that electricity is a power greater than you… try putting a light bulb in your hand and make it light up by using your own energy. There is no power in the light bulb.

Have you heard of “magnetic fields?” Ever used a compass? A compass has no power in itself. Yet, the needle will always point to true north. That’s because of the magnetic field of the earth. Try to get the needle to point south… on it’s own. It can’t do it. The magnetic field of the earth is a power greater than the compass. And, if you know how to read a compass… the compass is a power greater than you… even though it has no power of it’s own. It can get you “unlost” if you are lost… if you know how to use it.

Plant a seed in good soil and water it and give it sunlight. The seed will grow into a plant of its type. That’s because the seed is using several powers greater than the seed… and it grows. Try holding the seed in your bare hand and see if it grows. If it doesn’t grow… that means there are powers greater than you.

You say “Yes. But those are all the results of a scientific application of applied principles.” And, I say “Yes, the application of applied principles are also a power greater than me.” There may be no power in the principles… but if you apply them, (that’s application), something happens as a result of your actions.

The 12 Steps are “Spiritual Principles.” There is no power in the principles. We do not have to believe that they will work for us. But, we must take the actions to take the 12 Steps to find out if they will work for us.

Wow. I loved his mention of the forces of nature. My father possessed a deep respect for physics, the scientific method, and all things from the natural world, and in the course of growing up with him, he imparted this respect to me and a sense of awe as well.  So it’s no wonder that this step 2 reflection really resonated with me.  Here was something I could sink my teeth into. Gravity. Yes! Electricity! Yes! Magnetism. Yes!  Little seed growing.  Yes, YES! All powers greater than I am.  And then the idea of taking action, of applying these principles to further my understanding, to test these hypotheses–well, this really appealed to my inner scientist.  But can my scientist accept a higher power?  Will this question give rise to a crisis of faith? What do I have faith in anyway?  Gravity, electricity, magnetism, the power of the seed to sprout…but God?

It’s normal to have crises of faith.  Taking time to rethink one’s beliefs, to hold them up to the lens of experience, really examine them and decide if they can continue to be of value to us–this is an intelligent, mature place to be, and deepens our understanding of ourselves and our relationship to the universe that surrounds us and dwells within us.  Crises of faith don’t have to be tragic, awful experiences, problems in and of themselves. Given time, patience, and an earnest desire to understand, anyone can open to a greater vision of themselves and the world, and they can call this experience of opening whatever they will–learning, spiritual awakening, evolving, growing…The drive to seek this experience of opening comes from a belief–or faith–that there is something greater out there, something that remains to be understood, or grasped, or challenged, or observed.

This belief–this faith–in something greater is a wonderful quality for people to possess, wouldn’t you agree?  I like to spend time around people who have faith in what could exist beyond our own limited understanding–I like to directly experience all the different ways their faith is expressed; I enjoy hearing their stories, and I try to tune into my own thoughts, feelings, and bodily sensations as I watch and listen–to see if anything that they share resonates with me.  I know I still have a lot to learn. I’m glad I have this day to learn something new. What a wonderful, open, refreshing place to be, to know I don’t know everything!

The real trouble comes when we get stuck in an either/or scenario:  Either I’m a scientist, or I believe in God, but I can’t do both.  The rational mind loves to compartmentalize, to view in terms of black and white, good and bad, right and wrong.  We get stuck teeter-tottering on a thin line of numbers written out as proof that our inner computer has calculated correctly.  We might desperately cling to this thin line, only to discover that it isn’t much to hold on to, and it’s slipping out of our grasp!  I find this clinging to the dualistic mind to be a dark, claustrophobic, heavy, suffocating place to be, and nowhere that I want to spend any length of time. If I get stuck in my linear mind, I find myself miserable, trying to claw my way out, to find a full breath, to escape the constriction placed around my spirit, my creativity. Oh how I yearn to breathe!

We’re halfway through February, and I have certainly come to believe that a power greater than myself can restore my life to sanity. And it didn’t involve me dragging myself along kicking or screaming, either–or putting on a facade of belief.  It could be the power of the people who have already restored their lives to sanity, and the example they have set forth for me to observe. It could be the power of the earth spinning on its axis, or how the sun’s bright light shines in my window today. It could’ve been the full moon at 4:30 this morning, and how Venus glowed so brightly on the horizon I had to blink and blink again before I realized what it was.

All of these powers greater than myself…all of them working together in perfect harmony, achieving balance, finding ease without a single rational thought on their part. I’m starting to think that it’s more a homecoming, this restoring my life to sanity:  As I peel away the excess of my thoughts, the universal essence is revealed to me.  I come back home to it, only to realize I could never have left it.  It was always right there. It was always who I was, who I am now.