I get a notice from Google Calendar in my Gmail every morning. Most of the time, it tells me that I have no events scheduled for the day, apart from the odd subscription or Internet charge coming due. What a relief that is: “You have no events scheduled today!”
I like certain events; don’t get me wrong. I love having dinner with the kids and their families, excursions to the marsh to look at birds and critters with my honey, granddaughters’ birthday parties, visits to family in North Florida, the occasional movie, a new gadget to play with, my photography hobby, my sober friends. Stuff like that. But it seems to me that one of the rewards for growing older is a reduction in Events Scheduled Today, things like “talk to bankruptcy lawyer,” “look for job,” “visit pawnshop,” “buy beer,” “contemplate suicide,” “go to rehab….”
This life is better. There are things that need to be done, the routine stuff. Chores, shopping, clean the cat box, sign up for Medicare supplements. We still work. Even though we’ll be collecting Social Security soon, we’ll continue to work. Our checkered past pretty much precluded nest eggs and 401-K’s. And that’s OK, because given the current state of affairs, there’s no telling whether any of those things would have survived in much of a state anyway. The retirement resources we’ll have are the ones we can scare up on a week to week basis, combined with those that we were unable to screw up back in “the day.” And that’s OK, too.
I regret the cost to other people, but it took all of that to shape who I am today, so I can’t regret it for myself. I like who I am, and I don’t mind being a slow old grasshopper. Seems to me that it’s better than being a twisted up, burned-out ant. But of course if I were in a different situation I might view that differently too. Who knows? Do burned-out, twisted ants recognize their condition? I’ll never know. And, of course, being a burned-out grasshopper was no fun at all.
But I know this: I get up most mornings looking forward to the day. I look forward to the little events that Google doesn’t predict. I look forward to sitting at the computer and exploring the world, and to banging out these little bits of — what? Philosophy? Wisdom? Utter hogwash? Drivel? Who cares? It’s all part of the small stuff, and today it’s all small stuff, mostly. I’m cool with my status as a human, being. Human Doing is no longer part of my job description.






Anonymity — or not?
Those of us who work in or write about recovery (or both) tread a fairly narrow path when it comes to the issue of anonymity.
On the one hand, most of us want to adhere to the traditions of any fellowships to which we may belong, and anonymity is a basic tenet of most of those. On the other hand, it is sometimes difficult to remain anonymous “at the level of press, radio and film” while doing a conscientious job of telling people what recovery is all about. How, for example, is one to discuss questions, provide insight and so forth into the 12-Step programs without admitting — at least tacitly — that they are or have been members? How is one to discuss the benefits of the steps, or sponsorship, or how those programs help the recovery process if they have to pretend that all they know about them is simply hearsay?
The same is true, in a somewhat broader sense, of recovering addicts in general. When the fire of recovery is burning in your gut, how do you carry the message without admitting — even eulogizing — membership in the very program that is helping you to recover your life?
Eventually all recovering people reach their own accommodation with these issues. My own is to not mention specific programs. I simply don’t believe I can do my job or support other alcoholics and addicts properly without skating that close to the edge. I’ve tried, and I was unsuccessful.
Currently, many people in recovery are questioning the wisdom of anonymity in general. Their positions vary, but many knowledgeable, thoughtful people believe it is no longer really necessary, since addiction (and I include alcoholism whenever I use the word “addiction”) no longer holds the stigma that it did 75 years ago when the first 12-step fellowship was founded. Others believe that, realistically, very few of us actually have anonymity anyway. Still others think that AA, NA and the 150-plus other “anonymous” fellowships are shirking their duty to people who have not yet found recovery by not allowing their affiliation and their success to serve as good examples and inspiration.
I have my own opinions on these matters, but I prefer to keep them to myself on this blog. It is not my intention to attempt to foist my ideas on others — at least not here. I do, however, recommend this excellent article in the New York Times, which discusses the issues and presents the opinions of prominent recovering people.
If you would like to chime in with comments, please feel free. And however you feel about this issue…
Keep on keepin’ on.