I was chatting with my friend Fiona while in France. She mentioned a friend of hers who describes herself as a recovering alcoholic. I identify with addicts- regardless of the flavour. All addiction is addiction. Thankfully some of my behaviours are far more socially acceptable and one could argue not quite so harmful to my own body- but the process is the same. Addicts escape. And the desire to escape is sometimes so strong that it is literally all-encompassing. Sorry, I digress.
Her friend, will often talk about the need to surrender. She doesn’t drink because she surrenders to God. Her God, happens to be the Christian Jesus, I am aware that in the 12 step programme the ‘Higher Power’ is less prescriptive. I personally relate to Jesus and when Fiona mentioned it, I felt quite a peace in my heart. I knew who I could surrender to. I have taken those moments of peace with me. I am fully aware that surrender is a continual process. Its not one moment of surrender and that’s done. Any one in recovery knows that it is continual. Moment by moment, step by step, tear by tear surrender. And its quite liberating.
On my ill-fated walk up a French mountain, which happened to be the same day as this conversation. I may have missed the proper destination. But instead I found this.
I am not very good at measurements, but it was massive. The picture doesn’t do it justice. Much much bigger than a person. Majestic. Surveying the land.
I stopped and lay down in front of it and sung to Jesus. It was the only thing I could really do. As I stood up, a saw a tiny crocus, that thankfully I hadn’t squashed. It made me smile.
I didn’t have a Damascus moment. I didn’t hear voices, I didn’t see visions. But I had a few moments of peace- and let me tell you, in the turmoil of my mind, that is the greatest miracle of all.
As I trudge through things at the moment. I constantly think of Fiona’s friend who has to surrender so as not to drink. I think of her as I try and do the same.
And to every brave soul who has to surrender to survive- I totally salute you. You are amazing.
Thanks for listening.
OK. Deep breaths. Big hug. Wipe the tears.
I’ve been disappointed before. I’ve been gutted before. So I need to do what I know I need to do… pick myself up- dust myself down and start all over again.
That doesn’t negate how sad I feel. It doesn’t minimise my disappointment or grief. It just means that I will not let it take over my life. Sometimes when I don’t know which way to go- or what steps to take, I know that sometimes I just have to get up off my seat and start. Start somewhere. Start anywhere. Hope is an essential element to life.
False hope is a cruel tormentor. So its been a tricky time. But I choose to move forward.
I’ve applied today for a Masters in Educational Leadership- I’ve wanted to do it for years. If I can’t look after children in this country- then I will see what options are out there overseas. I will create community for myself in my own home. I will love those I already have in my life.
When the voices in my head whisper despair and hopelessness- I will stand tall. There is a plan for my life. If a door won’t open- then I will need to find another door that will open.
It’s quite hard picking yourself up- it would be easier to not try… but I’ve not given up yet- so no reason why I should give up now.
Thanks for listening.
Some people love it. Some people hate it. Some people embrace it. Some people avoid it.
That process of moving from one place to another. One state to another. One phase to another.
I’m in one.
Usually, I love and embrace change. I can’t bear the thought of turning stagnant. Not keeping fresh. Not moving. I usually find change quite exciting.
But in this phase of transition, I am finding it a bit more tricky than at other times. I have been trying to think as to why this might be. I think an idea is crystallising for me.
This time, I don’t know the end destination. I don’t know what it looks like, when it’s coming, and if I will ever get there. I’m in the dark. Because the potential other side is somewhere where I’ve never been before. And this is the new factor for me.
If I’m instituting change at work or in my home: I usually have a clear vision of what the new will look like. It often looks worse before it gets better, but I know where I’m going.
With this season of my life, I don’t. I’m clearing out. But it’s just feeling empty. I don’t know what, if anything is able to feel the hole. I do not nature abhors and vacuum and something will fill it… but quite what, I don’t know.
So I will just have to keep on keeping on. I want to hope for the best, not in that really pathetic way that people sometimes say… but rather with a bit of peace in my heart and fire in my belly that grits my teeth and says- change just ahead- but its hard in the dark isn’t it.
I need to look for some light!
Thanks for listening