There are times I wonder about this whole thing we do. This recovery thing. Why I am here and some other person just like me is out there still suffering in silence? Or about to end their life. Or about to take someone else’s in an accident. Or about to be incarcerated for a long time. Or dying slowly with or without tubes sticking out of them. Face jaundiced and stomach bloated. I wonder why I am here and not there. On a gurney, a slab or in an orange jumpsuit.
I heard a man speak today at a meeting. He picked up a desire chip today – a man coming back to the rooms. He spoke eloquently about the birds on his front lawn that he feeds every morning. They show up at 7 am daily, waiting for him to bring out crusty pieces of bread. They don’t do anything for him to deserve that bread – they don’t paint his house or cut his lawn, and yet they are there to receive. Unearned keep. They open themselves to getting their daily bread. And that is like us, with our grace, with our space of time given to us by Creator to just receive. A gift. And it’s up to us what we do with that time.
I wonder why it is some of us get that grace. But it’s not for me to ask. I will never know, but I am grateful for it. Some people say that we are “chosen” – those of us who are lucky to make it to sobriety. I am not sure if we are chosen. I don’t know why, but I don’t. I think we are all given our grace in our time, and we either act on it or we don’t. Some don’t see it as grace and just continue lacerating themselves with alcohol and/or drugs. Grace is not divinely meted out to those more “deserving”. It just is, like the rainfall.
I wonder about why I am here and what I am meant to do. I wonder what it is I am ordained to do here on this planet. I wonder what it is Creator is asking me to do. I should have been dead, or killed someone or been incarcerated. But I am not chosen. I am here right now, with a purpose. His plan, not mine. I don’t get the schematics or the blueprints for this. I am just given tiny little directions. Just enough to get me through the day. Like crusty bread on the daily. Open and receptive to His will.
I wonder about my ego and what manifestations it will take on to blind me and block me from the sunlight of the spirit. I wonder if even doing this blog is ego. What about when I change the colours here or the font – is that ego? When I share my thoughts – is that ego? When I use fancy words here or in the face-to-face world – is that ego? When I make my opinion known – is that ego? When I am asked to share at a meeting – is that ego? I guess they could be, and not be. Checking motives is my answer. Checking in with others. Checking in with Creator.
I wonder how it is that the right people and right things cross my path at precisely the time I need to have them. I know it is the Universe at play, and it serves to show me a Higher Purpose working behind the scenes, but I wonder how it is I am so blessed to experience this. Why those blinded by their illness can’t. Like how I never could when I was active in my drinking. I was only tuned into my own madness and obsession for complete oblivion. My dark path to numbing out, my suicide-by-installment plan, my long waking slumber.
The longer I wonder about these things, the less I understand. The longer I question, the more questions that I have. The more I seem to know, the fewer answers I have. This is the paradox of recovery and the power of the Universal Mind. I don’t have the answers, nor am I meant to have them. The answers I came up with while I was active were to the wrong questions. And I suffered for it. Today I just hope to have the right questions to begin with.
I am those birds. I just have to show up and receive. Don’t question, don’t feel guilty about it, don’t play small. Take in and do what a bird does. Fly. Ride the currents given to us. Rest when needed. A bird doesn’t wonder why it’s a bird. It just is. And that’s what I need to do. Stick with the flock when it flies south. Stick with the flock when it flies back north.
I spoke to a woman who was visiting from Dubai today after the meeting and she sounded very much like me – whipping herself and chastising herself for not being “better” at this. I told her to put the whip down. I told her that I felt the same and am learning to just be. That we are allowed to do that. We are allowed to make mistakes. We are allowed to be human. I smiled and said it again – we are allowed to be human. She started to tear up, and so did I. There was silence and we then turned towards the sun breaking out of the clouds and watched a bird land nearby.
Wonder. Wonderment of His world. I wonder…and then I don’t.
Be still and more will be revealed.
Fly on, my friends. Fly on.