Five Years Sober

I’m going to start this post with a few quotes from two different books, the AA Big Book and Conversations With God.

“My friend suggested what then seemed a novel idea. He said, ‘why don’t you choose your own conception of God?‘
That statement hit me hard. It melted the icy intellectual mountain in whose shadow I had lived and shivered many years. I stood in the sunlight at last.” – AA Big Book, page 12

“This is what your religions mean when they say that you were created in the ‘image and likeness of god.’ This doesn’t mean, as some have suggested, that our physical bodies look alike… It does mean that our essence is the same. We are composed of the same stuff.” – Conversations With God, page 26

Over the course of this year I have explored my spirituality more than ever before. There have been days when I have solely relied on my Higher Power. Days where I have prayed to the great Oneness and felt the love that I create by connecting to that Oneness with intention. In my world, having faith means believing in something that might not be there. Believing in something that, most of the time, I don’t really think is there. Because I still revert to the shadows of my icy intellectual mountain.

Sometimes I find myself unable to believe that I am a part of a whole. But my foundation of recovery and of connection with others is faith — belief that something that I don’t always think is there is actually there. All the time, it’s there. Even when I don’t believe in it. Just like the stars.

And the stars are the tangible representation of my Higher Power. The way they work, the way they live and die, the way they fall. I need something tangible. And because I am made up of star stuff, I feel connected to stars. And I feel connected to the ocean and to the moon because so much water flows within me.

When I say, “this is all bullshit, nothing means anything and this is all random,” I tell myself, “yes, both can be true.”

I can believe that this is meaningless. In that meaninglessness is some sort of feeling of completion. This deep belief I have that within this mess of randomness, we are all one. We are in it together, working together (whether we know it or not), to learn what need to learn. To learn that we are one.

We came from one moment. Out of that moment came every single thing that has ever or will ever exist. Oneness is the cornerstone of my faith. Oneness keeps me going.

Five years later, this is where I am. In the middle of this infinite exploration of my spirituality.

I am surrounded by a community of people who remind every day that I am one. I am a part of a whole. When I am sitting in meetings, I feel connected to every person there. When I am having coffee with inspiring women, I feel totally free to say my real truth, because we are ultimately one. (Another thing that has developed this year — I am less afraid of women than ever before, and have come to the understanding that it is so important to keep inspiring women in my daily life. I have a lot of women surrounding me with love). When I am at work, I am a part of family of people who work hard and practice compassion with every action they take. I have begun my career, and that feels really good. I feel secure, valued, and cared about both professionally and personally. I am grateful.

When I married my husband in February, I made a spiritual promise to my twin flame. (I know that might be the most woo woo sentence ever). My husband is my number one fan, my teacher, my best friend. I am grateful.

My sponsor has helped me understand what my higher power is constantly revealing to me. Different things every day. I have owned up to my self-seeking, selfish behaviors and I am working my through the fact that I cannot make others be what I think I want them to be. I am grateful.

I have learned that it takes effort to be a good friend. I am figuring out how to prioritize that effort. I have a best girl friend who understands me to my very depths, and who makes me laugh when I am feeling sorrow and fear. I am friends with people who inspire me and push me to be my best self. People who will not co-sign my bullshit. People who love me unconditionally. I am grateful.

My teacher works with me to gain a closer relationship to my higher power. She lights the path for me. She knows exactly who I am, and that does not scare me. My teacher helps me make connections. She helps me untangle my web and sit in feelings. I sit, I get curious, I accept. I am grateful.

I would have died. And I am alive. I was going to die. But I am alive. Every morning when I wake up, I remember that I am alive.
And though I make mistakes and feel shame and fear, I have this deep love for myself. A compassion for that girl. And for the woman I am today. I am becoming who I was always meant to be. At the same time, I am already who I was always meant to be. I am grateful.

My sobriety is the most important thing in my life. And because my sobriety is the most important thing in my life, I have received so many gifts and opportunities. By prioritizing myself, I am able to show up in my world and be helpful, kind, and hard working. Also, I have great dance moves.