Sunday 10 January 2016

For Today - Accepting What Works

The art of being wise is the art of knowing what to overlook.  - William James

I am serene this morning.  I slept.  I am warm and pleasantly sore from the gym.  Yesterday, I had a lovely afternoon with my friend, B.  Last night, I read about half of the Melody Beattie book on co-dependence.  And I am feeling some peace now around my friend M's relapse. 

I know M was acting out last night (he told me) and it was really bothering me -- to the point I felt sick.  I didn't realize at first that was what was bothering me.  I felt cold.  My stomach hurt.  I took my temperature twice - thinking I was running a fever (I wasn't).  I wasn't sure about eating my dinner because I felt like vomiting.  I contemplated going off plan with comfort food -- making some jello with pineapple as a compromise instead of the carbs I craved. 

Now, I think all of those physical symptoms were emotional.  I whispered the Serenity Prayer several times during the night.  I talked to my sister on the phone.  I had a cheeky e-mail exchange with B.  I ate proper dinner as planned and felt better.  I made a cup of tea instead of going out for ice cream.  I read about codependence, apparently a common response to growing up with a dysfunctional family where one parent is passive in their addiction / depression / health issue and the other is a controlling caretaker.  I don't want either role for myself.  I am learning to look after myself, before I fret about others.

So this morning I am practicing the art of overlooking M's behaviour in favour of doing my own work.  I know I cannot change him.  I know it is not healthy for me to try.  For my own sanity, I need to accept what works for me.  I think it's the Buddhists who say, "before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water.  After enlightenment, chop wood, carry water."

Last night, I felt some pieces fall into place. 
...a great feeling of peace descended upon me, intermingled with a feeling of being suffused with a quiet strength.  I lay down on the bed and slept like a child.  An hour later I awoke to a new world.  Nothing had changed and yet everything had changed.  The scales had dropped from my eyes, and I could see life in its proper perspective.  I had tried to be the center of my own little world, whereas God was the center of a vast universe of which I was perhaps an essential, but a very tiny, part. [Big Book, p.251] 

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