I Got Clean and Sober 37 Years Ago Today

I am moved to again share this post that I wrote three years ago with current dates. Deepest gratitude for the loving and wise support and the deep spiritual paths that we each discover and root into which heal our hearts, transform our lives, empower us to become our holy sacred selves, and inspire us to share the compassion, love, and grace that we have come to increasingly embody. 🙏 Molly

Then ― July 1978, six months after my twin brother's suicide.

And now at 70.

 

June 19th, 1984 ― June 19th, 2021

What a Ride!

The counselor looked right into my eyes and asked, "Well, Molly, what does an alcoholic look like?" Before I could censor myself, what blurted passionately out of my mouth was, "Sure as hell not like me!" I did not share the image that flashed in my head when he asked the question: an older woman, teeth missing, drunk, out on the streets. And here I was 33 years old, mother of 4 year old Brian and 22 month old Kevin, and looking good. Hell, I had years behind me of intensive image management and a plethora of books I'd gotten to get my shit together. (Only I actually used them to take the inventory of others, like my former husband and my mother, who definitely needed fixing). 

But there was a problem. Here I was 16 months into Al-Anon. I had all my little Al-Anon books neatly arranged, which I would read with some comfort while I sipped my wine and thanked God that I wasn't an alcoholic, like my sons' father. And Jim still denied it! Crazy! And I was a graduate of not one, but two treatment programs for family and friends of alcoholics/addicts. I had been compelled to get all this stuff about alcoholism figured out and under control after my close friend (thank you, Ann Baker!) informed me on February 8th, 1983 at about 8:37pm that I was married to an alcoholic. She had to be wrong! And I had to find out that she was wrong! Only she was right. And sometimes things happened along the way that made me crawl with anger (and fear), like when the counselor in one of the family programs told me that "well people don't marry sick people." Well, screw her!! Of course I didn't say that to her face. (And years later I would be grateful for her words...)

At least during those 16 months in Al-Anon I could relish my superior status of just being married to one and not being one myself. But, damn. Jim and I would argue ― "Well, if my dad's an alcoholic, your mom's an alcoholic!" Turns out that we were both right. And alcoholics kept coming out of the woodwork. One by one by one, this friend and that friend and the list grew and grew. What had once seemed so normal turns out wasn't so normal. Unless you realize how prevalent addiction is in American culture.

But I didn't know that in 1984. I just knew that I'd come to a point where I was either crazy or I was an alcoholic. I was trying to stick to just smoking my 1-1/2 packs of cigarettes a day, but that was not keeping the lid on my long stuffed trauma, which was now demanding to no longer be relegated to the deepest recesses of my heart. And all I could think about was drinking. Or finding even just one leftover roach from our pot smoking days. But there were none to be found. And, wait a minute, I was supposed to be the model Al-Anon. Only I was obsessing about drinking. So I was truly going crazy, or I was an alcoholic. I'm not sure which I preferred. But I had to find out which was true.

I am incredibly blessed with this resilience and Grace ― and maybe my twin brother as my guardian angel ― which compels me to seek and follow truth wherever it leads, no matter how terrifying, painful, disorienting, and life changing. So I spontaneously made this appointment with this guy at a alcohol treatment center in Gresham and here I was being asked stupid questions like what does an alcoholic look like? Well, sure as hell not like me!

Wrong. After that appointment, I went out and bought a bottle of wine. I drank much of it that night. It didn't even taste good. And the next morning I was hungover. And then I showed up for a noon AA meeting, my first. That was June 19th, 1984. I was so scared.......

Surrender to reality is not easy for any of us who have been living in alternative realities. I'd been trying to be so good and prove what a non-alcoholic looks like to my alcoholic husband. I'd been so invested in being better than, which was, unknown to me, my cover for keeping at bay what underlies grandiosity ― feelings of being profoundly flawed, unlovable, full of shame, and not deserving to breathe air. I'd been focusing on judging and taking inventories and fixing others and being nice and managing all outward appearances and inner discomfort by, not just drinking and smoking cigarettes and pot, etc., but also with a whole host of other addictions I didn't realize I had. An early counselor told me that I could be addicted to standing on my head. He was right. Anything to distract me from the pain and shame and fear and unresolved grief that had been buried deeply in my heart.

* * * * *

Sometimes it's the places which most scare us that are the exact places we need to go. It can also be those people who most trigger in us anger and judgment, shame and fear, and confusion and curiosity who may inadvertently be shining a light on a doorway that invites us to enter into new and unfamiliar territory.

Again and again, I have gone through this doorway. And what I initially mistook for just hell and suffering ultimately became the way through... through to greater expanses and awareness, beauty and joy, connection and belonging, gratitude and love.

Without going through these doorways and rooting into deepening and evolving paths of meaning and healing and transformation, we just get stuck in our addictions and woundedness and mistaken beliefs that cause us to be lost, alone, and hurting.

And we are limited in bringing the needed strengths and skills and wisdom to our hurting world if we are neglecting the hurt in own hearts. In this neglect, we lose sight of the greater vistas which remind us of balance, beauty, belonging, tenderness, joy, our sacred purpose, and that we are all part of the body of the Great Mother.

There is another way.

* * * * *

This isn't just my story. This is one form of what may be considered a universal human story. A story of being lost ― often without knowing it ― and then being found. A spiritual story of hope and love and courage and Grace. A story of synchronicity and stumbling upon a path that turns out to be precisely what is needed and what is life changing. 

Death doesn't just happen after we take our last breath. What I know today is that a life lived with greater and greater healing and wholeness, courage and compassion, wisdom and love is one where we have surrendered again and again to the life-death-life cycles which call to us throughout our lifetimes. 

If we are alive, there is more we can do to grow in mindfulness of the obstacles we unconsciously build within ourselves against love. As Rumi wisely states, "Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it." And as Pema Chödrön reflects, "We don't set out to save the world; we set out to wonder how other people are doing and to reflect on how our actions affect other people's hearts." First we need to befriend and know our own hearts.
 
And let us not fool ourselves into thinking that we haven't had this problem of obstacles or addictions or unresolved anything. All the traumas and tragedies that are making the headlines daily scream at us to WAKE UP! We humans have got a problem with living with wisdom, integrity, courage, truth, kindness, and love. We do. And it's not just those "others" out there who could still benefit from attending to what remains buried and unattended. We all have blind spots, and there are so many opportunities to do more and more of the courageous work of making the unconscious conscious. My own journey has made clear to me that most of us can grow in an ongoing way in our capacity to be present, mindful, compassionate, and wise. We can do this.

* * * * *

Among the many lessons that I have learned over the past 30+ years is that addiction is epidemic in America. It's not just me! And I'm not just talking about alcohol and opiates. Anything that we have a continued pattern of using to distract us from being more present to what is happening in our bodies and in the body of the world can be considered an addiction. We can be addicted to food, work, exercise, shopping, caretaking, image management, religion, ranting about those idiot ______ (fill in the blank) that we see on FOX or MSNBC, and on and on. Whatever we use in a consistent way that serves to limit our experience of intimacy, consciousness, and connection within ourselves and with other humans, other beings, and our Earth Mother harms us and creates ripples which are not healing or helpful.

As we grow, year by year, we are either doing the work of healing and opening our hearts, or our hearts are becoming more constricted. It is not surprising that we see so much addiction and depression, anger and fear, scapegoating and projecting, poverty and oppression, racism and violence in America and beyond. Building walls on the outside mirrors the walls we have unconsciously built on the inside. Being okay with taking children from their parents and holding them in what amounts to as cages mirrors a deeply neglected child within the perpetrator of such incredible brutality. People who commit monstrous acts do not just fall from the sky. 

And the deadening of our hearts to any degree, and other forms of ignorance, separation, and violence, needs to be seen for what it is ― symptoms of a larger picture. These are painful times to be conscious. And our consciousness is greatly needed. I am humbled with knowing that we humans all fall somewhere on the continuum of being more or less awake, more or less honest and kind, more or less compassionate or empathically impaired, more or less fearful or loving.

Every time I write and speak to these things, I am reminded of how these times ask of us to do the best we can to grow our hearts stronger and to deepen in our religious or spiritual practices. Otherwise we are at risk of returning hate with more hate and other unskillful reactions to the pain that is having an impact on us all, and whether we know it or not.

The wisdom of the Dalai Lama comes to mind when he said, "Spiritual practice involves, on the one hand, acting out of concern for others' well-being. On the other, it entails transforming ourselves so that we become more readily disposed to do so." I also have long had two bumper stickers on my car, one being another quote by the Dalai Lama: "Compassion Is the Radicalism Of Our Times." And then there's this one: NON-JUDGMENT DAY IS NEAR. Certainly this is a beautiful hope and prayer to hold.

Perhaps each of us can do what we can to support and inspire one another in looking with new eyes at ourselves, our struggles, and the struggles of others who we share this beautiful troubled world with. Perhaps more and more of us can find in the darkness new paths that reveal greater light and love in these times of so much loss. Such a paradox how this is exactly what I have experienced again and again ― some hidden gem in the midst of the crumbling of the world as I had known it. 

* * * * *

Today we are all on shaky ground. The addictions and depression, the mass shootings and suicides, the ripping away of children from their parents, the constant and toxic polarizing propaganda, the seeming endless wars and endless greed, our warming planet and rising seas and stronger storms, and on and on. Yes, shaky ground. And none of us knows how it will all play out.

The good news is that we have each other. And for those of us who are able to experience resilience and connection and courage and Grace, we get to keep evolving and expanding and becoming more and more of who we truly are. Yes! We need each other. 

And we need to hold ourselves with tenderness and compassion and a fierce commitment to working together for a higher good. I couldn't get sober and experience my awakening in isolation. We won't heal and awaken and transform our world without first being committed to our own sacred journeys. We humans are also increasingly coming to experience and know in our deepest being that the joy and suffering of others is intimately linked to our own. In the midst of so much suffering, we are also witness to acts of great love, courage, and caring. We truly are all in this together.

May we find our ways to bring more of our unique gifts to the world, joining hands and hearts with our sisters and brothers everywhere. We are all family. ❤
 

With love and blessings,

Molly