These days are a blur, in some respects. A whirlwind and yet standing still in some ways. Like watching a top spin on the table. Fixed, and yet eyes lost in the swirls of motion. I run a lot these days. I need to. I like to. And when I run, my body breaks down in tiny ways. Fissures at microscopic level erupt and later repair, making everything stronger. But in the meantime, I am fatigued. Sore. Ice and medication and wraps help. But there is fatigue. There is an ending to this all, of course, a race coming up, and hopefully I can finish that race. In the meantime, I run.
There is a cycle of broken, unbroken that swirls around me lately. Small cycles nestled in large ones, like microclimates within the bosom of the seasons. In the large season, I was a broken man with a crippled spirit and diseased mind. My body was fatigued, but because of alcohol abuse and poor choices. My soul was crushed like an old beer can. But I got into recovery and started to mend that brokenness. I am still mending. I have my microclimates in the meantime. They may feel like maelstroms but pass, and like trees after trauma, the roots become a bit stronger. The bark a bit tougher.
I try to look at the whole picture, the big shot between the clouds and the suns rays, past this earth and into the other world. In inner world. I use gratitude as a slingshot. I use Creator’s callings and nudgings to do so. But I often fail in that and see things through human eyes. But I am human, after all, and do my best.
I read the blogs, I hear people share in meetings, I scan the newspapers. I see a snapshot of a totality that is way beyond my mere human one and it both gives me pause for reflection and as an opportunity for further gratitude. But in comparison to the heartache, the pain and hurt out there, I see that I am just a grain of sand. Suddenly, I feel silly talking about sipping an adult beverage by accident. I feel ridiculous discussing how once again ego is nipping at my backside, or how many miles I ran this time. It seem fraudulent in some ways.
Does it matter how many grams of protein I am getting when others have no food period? Does it make any difference what kind of shoes I am wearing that day when many don’t have? Is it acceptable to moan about first world problems when I read about others who are suffering greatly, alcoholics and non-alcoholics? Perspective would have me say no. Gratitude would have me say that I should be bloody well be happy to be sober, happy and well and for me to shut the hell up on everything else. Help another alcoholic and get to bed. Stop whining about everything else. There is a plan afoot.
There is a certain brokenness that pervades me these days. I can’t pinpoint it, and it’s rather vague. I am physically well, and I connected to God and pray for an open heart and open mind in my daily affairs. I do laugh and I do my best as a father and husband. But there is that human weariness that has been preying on me lately, and am seeking guidance in this. This is nothing to worry about nor is it something that bears motherly “tsk tsk it will be okay”‘s. It just is. And like everything else, it will pass. Good or bad, or whatever label we put on such things, it will pass. In the meantime, I just observe it and bring it to light.
Like that muscle tissue, there are fissures in all of us. Micro tears in our spiritual fabric that will get stronger as we do what we need to heal. It’s gradual. Or it is for me, at least. I needed to heal physically first, then to carry on mentally and spiritually. It’s an ongoing thing. It’s a marathon. I guess it’s my job to do what I need to do. As we all do.
I see there are many bloggers counting days lately, and I tip my hat to them all. I know what it’s like. I see friends out here who have broken past the early years of sober talk and now getting into deeper territory with eloquence and charm, and I tip my hat to them all. I see that there are many out here who suffered, or continue to suffer, in afflictions other than addiction, and I tip my hat to them all. I see many who have broken into bigger medium and carrying the message to so many more, and I tip my hat to them. There is a greater deal out there than this bottle thing. Bottles are but just a symptom of a greater problem. And that is where I hang my hat at night.
This post probably doesn’t make sense. And feel free to move along if so. No offence taken. But as I pass through the places where I am urged to pass, I take stock of things. That heaviness right now is neither bad nor good. It just is. No need to feel sorry about it. Broken becomes unbroken, as long as I trust the process and just let it be. I am no longer in charge of this flight, so I just do the next right indicated thing.
For those of you who are struggling, who are hurt by loss, who are wondering why things are the way they are, for those who are getting banged up in some way, I offer you this: nothing in Creator’s world is by accident. We are where we are needed to be. Acceptance is the key, the answer. Surrender is the way to freedom and victory. And things will always work out the way they are supposed to be.
They become unbroken.