Money, Property and Prestige

I had a talk this morning with someone extremely dear to me about her necklaces.  She had expressed last night the significance of each one of the, I think, nine adornments around her neck.  Each one special in its' own right, tied to people, ideals and things. Reminding her of their presence in her life, past and future, providing strength and luck.

In our discussion this morning, I told her they appeared to be more like shackles and restraints.  The people, ideals and things are special to her regardless of whether she has a charm to dangle.  They are people, ideals and things that seem to be strangling instead of strengthening her.

What I didn't tell her then, but did when she called at lunchtime, is that I totally get it.  I've had some sort of physical embodiment of safety, security, status and love, in every stage of my life, as most of us do. 

A baby blanket, a stuffed monkey, a musical instrument, a letter jacket, a class ring, THE clothes/shoes, necklaces, a wedding band, a house, a car, a bike, the list could go on and on if I had enough time.  The blanket, monkey, musical instrument and letter jacket are in a storage box in my basement, and have managed to make every trip with me when I've picked up stakes and moved on with my life, but I don't carry any of them around for everyone to see.   The class ring was stolen and sold for heroin by an ex who to this day swears he didn't take it.  THE clothes/shoes, yeah, they quickly became the NOT so THE clothes/shoes.  All of the necklaces, including the herringbone gold chain everyone who was anyone HAD to have in high school, were pawned in my active using days.  The wedding band, o.k., bands plural, were sold as soon as I got out of the marriages.  The house, after a totally bonehead move, gone to foreclosure.  A car, at least every one I've ever had before the one I have now, GONE.  A bike, at least the first one, the one that symbolized my personal freedom, is sold, even though it's still residing in my garage.

Does the packing away, selling or losing of any of these objects that symbolized my childhood, my teenage years, my marriages, my home ownership or my personal growth mean none of it ever happened and therefore they all cease to exist?  No.  Do them not being a constant reminding presence mean I have forgotten?  No.  Does letting them go mean I've abandoned it all?  No.  Does anyone but me need to know of or see their existence in order to validate that I am a person with a long history of success and failure and growth?  No.  Are they all just mere milestones and building blocks of my journey and my life?  Yes.

Don't be mistaken.  I LIKE having the reminders that I have.  I don't want to NOT have them.  But, after physically losing pretty much everything I ever worked for a few years back, and drowning myself in this struggle to separate who I am from what I have to show for it, I now know that all that "stuff" really doesn't matter in the least.

It all comes down to me and my higher power in every single moment, past, present and future.  People, ideals and things are all outside of myself, as imperminent as I myself am and really are of no necessity.  That old saying, "Pray for what you need.  Work for what you want.", is the reality of it all, not the physical incarnations that come from seriously doing the work.  I am my own partner.  I am my own vehicle.  I am my own home.  Anything extra that I and everyone else can touch and feel is just a joyful bonus.

I'll take inner freedom over outside confinement every day of the week.  No one, NO ONE can take that away from me unless I give them or it the power to do so.  Ain't happenin.  Not today anyway.  My life and who I am are what's really of substance and value.

Defects of Character

ONE thing about being a part of any 12 Step program that really makes me take a look at shit is the formidable 6th Step.  For those that are unfamiliar:  "Step Six:  We became entirely ready to have God remove all of our defects of character."  Gee.  That sounds nice.  Yet, if you've ever personally experienced "working" this one, you know that most times it is NOT very nice.  It's really quite unpleasant to look at the worst parts of you.

This time around, I've seemed to struggle a bit more with it.  I've wrestled with whether or not I can move forward with it, while I'm still having this gnawing disbelief that that these nasty bastards CAN be removed.  Looking back on my previous one from many years ago, I know that this is the point at which ME completely began to change.  I know from THAT hard work, that THIS work will most likely cultivate the same, and I'm truly ready for that.  And yet, looking back on THOSE past defects and writing last night on THESE present defects, I pretty much still have the same fuckin' ones.  They were never "removed".  They seem to, at times, have been "relieved", but I definitely relapse on my character defects when I feel threatened.  They're my shields and my weapons, yet each time I wield them, I am the one that is beaten and broken.

 

I settle in quite comfortably to a few old standards, "people pleasing", "self centered", "passive/aggressive", "manipulative".  While writing last night, I kept visualizing these like "a powder puff of metal shavings".  I seem to be "patting" ever so gently, to make you "feel better", all the while knowing full well that what I'm actually doing to you is abrasive, brutal and will harm you, ever on the ready to point out that you LET me do it, so it's your own damn fault you're bleeding when you finally notice.

 

The last time I did this step, I was amazed at my character defects.  I'd never actually "seen" them before.  This time... it's different...  I've known of their existence and fully embraced them when it suited me.  I've made a conscious decision to act out on them when I have.  That ain't cool.  That ain't nice.  That is not who I am, but it sure as hell is what I do when I'm...  what?  Pissed?  No.  Hurt?  Sometimes.  Afraid?  You betcha.

 

So, in looking for the key to unlock the door and remove these beasts, I've discovered it's in my pocket and I remove these defects myself, just long enough to tear someone else apart, then hide them back away.  Hmmm.  All this time I've spent trying to "turn it over" to the God of my understanding, I really haven't been doing that by still cherishing the key.

 

This powder puff of metal shavings needs to be tossed out for good.  Not just because it hurts people I care about, but because everyone knows I fucking hate makeup.  ;)   

Wow...

So it's January 28, 2011.  It's been awhile.

Where have I been?  Here, there, somewhere, nowhere.
What have I been doing?  Laughing, crying, sighing, smiling, lots of stuff, nothing.
Why haven't I taken the time to write?  Too much on my mind, blank stares, evil glares, who cares.

It's been a strange few months.  Relationships blossomed and fizzled.  My physical self got sick and my spiritual self got stronger.  I've looked for a solution rather than a cure.  I've tried and I've failed.  I've given up and succeeded.  I've been bored.  I've been over booked.  I've wasted time.  I've wasted money.  I've been afraid of not having enough of either and both have been given freely.

I've seen beautiful people turn ugly.  I've seen strangers become absolute angels.  I have expected less and received more.  I have relished the quiet and sobbed in it when I wanted.  The impermanence of everything has finally set in.  I've learned so much and only begun to retain it.

My life is settling in to a most pleasant ebb and flow.  Even the spinning I've done of late on my own mortality, has brought me to a place of surrender once again.  There is nothing to be done or undone.  I am happy.  I am calmly abiding the pain.  I am accepting the fear of the unknown for exactly what it is right now.

Someone recently told me I'm too dramatic and sound like I'm straight out of The Young and The Restless.  If feeling emotion deeply is dramatic, so be it.  I'm no longer young and honestly don't feel restless.  I've been having a bit of trouble sleeping, but that's just when I don't let myself be right where I'm at.

I am....
quiet
grateful
free
here.