This was the topic at a recent meeting where I was called on to share about the topic but I passed. The main reason I passed was because I’d been to two other meetings that weekend where I was called on and I did share. Sometimes I get a little sick of my own voice or sharing my own experience, strength, and hope. I like to listen to what others have to say too. But the topic stayed with me through this week and it started to color how I took in my world around me. The reading that related to the topic of accepting our humanness focused on admitting our wrongs, looking at and accepting our part in our wrongs and becoming willing to set matters straight.

In other words: honesty, accountability, and corrective action. These are important principles and values instilled in us 12 steppers almost from the very beginning. And once we begin to practice these principles in all our affairs, to the best of our willingness and ability, oppositional factors such as justification, rationalization and denial go out the window. It can make for a very interesting, energetic mental and spiritual tug-of-war a lot of the time. You see, most of the time, my first reaction is of the oppositional, dysfunctional variety. But my recovery principles always kick in or come to the forefront. Sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly, depending upon my spiritual fitness at the time and believe me, I am not always spiritually fit. That shit takes work. A definite labor of love. But it’s a labor of love that yields some pretty incredible things like peace, acceptance, and gratitude.

Let me give you an example by telling you about something that happened to me last Friday at the birthday Happy Hour of a work friend. I was talking with a lovely woman, Carolina, who is a friend of a friend at work. She and I are very friendly and talk quite a bit at social events like that or when we run into each other at work. She knows my oldest son, Charles, who works at our company. She had been encouraging him to go back to school for at least two years now, something she’d mentioned to me at that time and still mentioned whenever she saw me. She started explaining that she was so happy because he told  her he signed up for classes. I had a blank look on my face because I didn’t know.  I smiled though because I was glad to hear he followed her advice and went back to school. She started to look upset when it was clear Charles had not told me about it. I was quick and genuine in my reassurance that I wasn’t upset. Charles is intensely private about his life, he always has been, even as a child. I’ve made peace with that about him and I don’t take it personally anymore. I truly don’t because when I do run into him at work he always smiles big, hugs me hard and asks how I’m doing. I feel the love and sincerity in his smile and his embrace. I’ve done a lot of work over the years regarding my parenting, my past, and my current relationships with each of my children. I’ve written about some of that here, mainly Baby Bub because she’s still in the house with me. But Charles is 28 years old and I sent him to live with his father when he was 15. He is my first born and our relationship is different. I learned to look honestly at my part in his upbringing. In my honesty, I was able to accept responsibility for a lot of things and I made amends. More importantly, I adjusted my expectations. I am able to accept him for who he is. I am able to love him in the way he allows. Which has improved our relationship so much and I am grateful for that.

I have a sense of humor and appreciation regarding my humanness today. It also keeps me out of the “victim and poor me” mentality that I lived in for so long. There is strength in accountability and grace in making amends.

I went on a quest this weekend that turned into an adventure. It started, as many of my quest-turned-adventures do, with Dawny, my thoughtful, generous best friend. She’d heard that a new friend, Justine was selling cupcakes at some kind of street fair in Wynola, the next town over from where we live and asked me if I wanted to go to the event Saturday morning to surprise and support her.  I told her sure, I was down for a cupcake run.

On Saturday morning. we each did what we had to do (or not do, in my case), then Dawny came over. The first snag happened with scheduling. Dawny called Justine to find out what time the street fair started and it wasn’t until noon. That time frame wasn’t going to work for us. We decided to reschedule the run for Sunday morning because the fair opened a couple hours earlier at 10 am. This time I drove over to Dawny’s place around 11:20 am after my Sunday morning meeting in the park. We headed out to Wynola on our cupcake run. The drive took 30 minutes and we passed it because the town is so small and we didn’t know exactly what we were looking for. Turns out it was a Lilac Festival! The second snag happened because Justine ran out of cupcakes and left to bring back more. Dawny and I had time to kill before needing to head back for a community board meeting. Thus, the quest for cupcakes became a meandering adventure.

The Lilac Festival took place on Fort Cross Farm with booths of various interests along a path around the property. We started on the path and found a pony booth with a small corral for kids to ride and be led around inside. We continued on and saw a sign for “archery and t-hawks”. We wondered what “t-hawks” were, then it suddenly came to me, TOMAHAWKS!  An area for archery and tomahawk throwing! We ambled over to the area where there was a bonafide, true-life mountain man by the name of TJ Black, who told us about the history of trappers, hunters and traders in the area and how local Natives would trade furs for tomahawks. He gave us a demonstration on how to throw tomahawks then stepped back and insisted we try it ourselves.

It was a blast! I managed to embed one of the three tomahawks in the wooden targets. Dawny hit two targets on her second try. After the tomahawk area, we stumbled upon a hayride, in progress. The driver stopped the hayride and insisted Dawny & I joined in on the impromptu sing-a-long. So we did. He pulled out his guitar and a few people already on the ride had a tambourine, a cowbell, and a home-made bass, which consisted of a stick in an upside washtub with strings attached. Folks, I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried. We sang several rounds of “She’ll Be Comin’ ‘Round The Mountain”, then were invited to hop on the back of the hayride. So we did. We rode around the property then ended up back at the front of the festival, where it turns out we were expected to participate in a couple of hoe-down group dances. So we did! It was all a blast and a hoot and a half, but still no cupcakes. It was getting late, we were hungry and it was hot out. Dawny called Justine again but it didn’t sound like she was going to make it back before we had to leave. We went back to Dawny’s car to wait. Then decided to cross the highway to check out a taco bar, but it was too crowded and would have taken too long. We got back to Dawny’s car and just as we were about to leave, Justine pulled up with her cupcakes! We conducted our transaction in the grassy knoll parking lot between the vehicles. These cupcakes were divine and well worth the wait. I bought two lemon curd with lilac icing and one chocolate with chocolate icing.

So how is this a metaphor? Hmmm, let’s see. We started out with a plan for Saturday, which changed to Sunday. Upon arrival, the main reason for going wasn’t there. But we made the best of things and participated in what was available, having a lot of fun along the way. Trying and learning something new. Being willing to take some direction, which led to much hilarity and more fun. After a little tension, feeling uncomfortable, considering an alternative that didn’t to work, we ultimately had just enough patience to finally get what we were after. I don’t know about y’all but that really feels like my life right now. My plans have been altered, adjusted, stalled and redirected. I just need to stay willing through it all. Willing to make the best of what is available, to try and learn something new, to take some direction, to endure some tension, to try alternatives that may or may not work and ultimately to have just enough patience to get me where He leads.

First of all, I can’t even begin to tell you how much it meant that so many of you from different facets of my life reached out to show me love and support in response to Thursday’s blog. I wrote that blog Wednesday night and I couldn’t fall asleep until after 2am Thursday morning. Then, I had to get up for work Thursday at 5:30am. So Thursday started out ROUGH. I got to work, kept my head down and summoned what little energy I had to get my job done. About 20 minutes later I received an instant message on my work computer from a young angel-friend, Amy, who is in a different department. She sent two lovely memes with a sweet little note. One said “Good Morning” with a picture of a row of Adirondack chairs on a beach. The other one was a quote from the movie ‘The Help’ which I embedded in the blog. That quote was my favorite part of the movie and it always moved me to tears. I was touched and immediately decided to forward both memes via instant message to another co-worker friend that I knew was also struggling. I told Amy that I was passing along her memes and she replied she’d read my blog that morning and wanted to send me some extra love. I was surprised. I was aware Amy knew of my blog and had read it before, but she’s not on Facebook so that meant she went to the blog site on her own. Later that morning while on break another friend asked me if I was doing ok because she’d read my blog too. As tired and exhausted as I was, both of those interactions lifted my heart and spirit. After work, I went straight to a women’s 12 step meeting that I had not been to in a very long time. It was great. I even went to Denny’s afterward for some food and fellowship after the meeting. At that point, I’m not sure how I was upright and coherent but I made it home and promptly went to bed.

Friday morning it was back to work. I was unusually focused and productive. It’s casual dress on Fridays and there is a relaxed atmosphere, but I got quite a bit of work done. At the end of the day, I headed over to Happy Hour for a friend’s birthday. I don’t normally do Happy Hours on a regular basis for obvious reasons, but I make an exception for special occasions. This was one of them. I had a fabulous time blowing off steam. My Lydia Lolabrigida, who’d retired earlier this year was there, which lifted my spirits to no end! We got a little loud and the manager had to ask us to keep it down since they were a restaurant too. Then a few of us went outside to get into some shenanigans with a donkey. Ah good times, good times… 

I left Happy Hour in time to get to a Friday night meeting I don’t usually attend. I walked in 10 minutes late but was hailed and greeted with the same loud, raucous enthusiasm I received at Happy Hour. It made me smile as I flipped my friends off for disrupting the meeting and calling undue attention as I walked to my seat. But hey, that’s how my spiritual kin roll. It felt amazing to continue to connect with this community that is my family. Listening to and sharing our collective experience, strength and hope. All with love, affection, and acceptance for each other. I did what I said I needed at the end of  my Thursdays blog: I adjusted expectations and put in a little more effort in hopes of feeling a bit better the next day. It reminded me of that Irish proverb, though not necessarily in the same order. Of course, there was also the love that came my way.