There’s nothing like a little run of solid sobriety to upset the apple cart. Put together seven or eight days of no drama, and suddenly I’m morphing into normal-person behavior. Obviously, I’ve hit upon some rich vein of serenity that will never run dry. I’m surfing at sunrise, before everyone else, and riding upon the crest I truly believe that this moment and this wave of water will never end. Everything’s good in the now.
See, It was thinking about the wave crashing that was causing the problem – I’d let the future ruin my present. So I tried not thinking about the ending, and that seemed to be the key in my recent string, and like a pitcher in the middle of a no-hitter, I wasn’t mentioning it.
Rumination: I shouldn’t expect anything in return beyond what I’ve put into it.
True, I’ve gone two years without drinking, and that’s a string. But I’m talking about putting together the pleasant days, the days where I do the next right thing; where I’m taking time to pray and meditate and check in. These are by no means easy days. Let me be clear: the days are the same. It’s when I choose to take back my will and start wanting the world to conform to my way of thinking that they become difficult.
It seems like I’m concentrating on a pretty superfluous part of the program: How to Handle Happiness. But for me, feeling continually good starts to melt into surrealism. My thoughts and feelings get all Dali’d up and go out on the town. It’s me, everybody, back and better than ever! Get me while I’m not being an ass!
Maybe that’s overstating things a bit, but that’s how I’m currently constituted to think: in big waves. Each one new and unique, like a day.
Let someone else put up the strings of lights, of popcorn, of cranberries on this metaphorical Christmas tree. I need to concentrate on the individual ornaments: that they don’t fall and break, that the branch chosen can support the weight I’m asking of it, that there isn’t another similar decoration nearby that would diminish its uniqueness. Each and every one needs their own moment, their own space, their own day. At the end of it all, feel free to stand back and marvel at your work, ever remembering that it all gets boxed up again real soon.