We had a good trip to New Hampshire. Riley loved sledding. We went out three times. Maddie liked it, but not like the Ri-Man. We decorated graham-cracker houses, which was enthralling for about 10 minutes (typical toddler attention span), and the kids had a blast chasing the three cats and two dogs around the house. Maddie said her first complete sentence: "I will hold this." I kid you not. I had a plate of crackers and cheese, and I held it out to Maddie and said, "Would you like some?" She took it from me and said, "I will hold this," clear as a bell. My friends both heard it, too. Crazy.
I got to take a long jacuzzi bath on Sunday morning while the twins napped. Heaven. I joined a book club, and I'll be going for the first time on Wednesday. I didn't join until last Wednesday, so I've had some serious reading to do and the jacuzzi tub was an excellent place to do it. We're reading The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls. Memoirs are not my favorite genre, but her story is pretty compelling and a real statement about the loyalty young children have to their parents no matter how they are treated.
As has been well documented here, I've been tired and impatient lately. I blame, among other things, the emotional impact of John's birthday, the weather, my utter indifference to work, and the holidays. After a few weeks of being much better about the yelling and the annoyance with the twins, this past week was filled with moments that I longed to take back. As always, it was good to be with friends to help with the task of baby care and remind me that there is lots of fun to be had with the babes.
Returning home last night, after dark, with a car full of stuff to unload, children to feed, baths to give, bills to pay, and prep for the week to do was hard. I was weary and felt the annoyance coming back. The friends we stayed with in NH are very active in their Unitarian Universalist church, not in an "in your face" kind of way at all, but a quiet, peaceful, and admirable way. I found myself thinking of Al-Anon and higher powers and asking for help. As I struggled to get things unloaded and get ready for the week, I asked for help a few times. Then I asked again while I drifted off to sleep. "Help me be patient. Help me be the kind of parent I want to be. Help." I really don't know where these pleas are going, but they do seem to work. I felt much calmer this morning, less bothered by the small stuff (like being late, feeding the twins a less-than-stellar breakfast, not getting the playroom tidied before we leave like we usually do, Maddie pooping just as we were headed out the door—really, small stuff, but sometimes it totally gets me down). I had to dig through a huge load of laundry to find the kids' hats and mittens, and we made a game of it; I would ask each of the twins to find me a specific thing. By the end, the laundry was folded and the kids were running around in their pajamas and mittens. It was pretty funny.
I've been considering attending a service at the large, active UU church in my town. I am very undecided about the God/higher power issue, so I like he UU focus on respect for all beliefs and a love of all people. I struggle with how to teach those values to the twins, and this would provide a framework for those teachings. I don't see it happening before the new year, but it's something that's on my mind for 2008. It might help me figure out where my pleas for help are going, because it's pretty clear to me that they are getting heard.
Showing posts with label Al-Anon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Al-Anon. Show all posts
10 December 2007
07 June 2007
HALT
Looky here: a two-post day!
Halfmama's first post at parenting.com (Congrats on the gig, Halfmama!) reminded me of something that I've wanted to blog about for a while: HALT.
As I have mentioned before, for a couple of years running, I spent a lot of time in Al-Anon meetings. Anyone familiar with twelve-step programs knows that slogans run rife at meetings. There is a slogan for any and everything. As with everything said at an Al-Anon meeting, you take what you like and leave the rest.
My number-one slogan by far is HALT:
Hungry
Angry
Lonely
Tired
These are the top-four triggers for negative behavior. If I'm feeling in a foul mood, short-tempered, annoyed, fed-up, impatient, sad, or otherwise out of sorts, my ickiness can almost always be traced to one (or more) of these four sources. The same is true of my kids. When the are acting squirrely, the first thing I do is run through this list to try to identify what the source of their problem might be.
The good thing about this is that if I can identify the cause, I'm on my way to fixing it. Granted, some things are easier to fix than others. Hungry is the easiest one to remedy. Lonely? Not so much. But just having a label to put on my disquiet is a good step. When I'm short-tempered with the kids and I'm able to step back and figure out why, I try to be good about apologizing and saying, "I'm sorry I snapped; I'm feeling tired [hungry, lonely, angry] right now." They can't understand me right now, but I want to be in the habit of sharing my feelings with them for when they can understand, and I want them to practice naming their feelings, too.
Halfmama's first post at parenting.com (Congrats on the gig, Halfmama!) reminded me of something that I've wanted to blog about for a while: HALT.
As I have mentioned before, for a couple of years running, I spent a lot of time in Al-Anon meetings. Anyone familiar with twelve-step programs knows that slogans run rife at meetings. There is a slogan for any and everything. As with everything said at an Al-Anon meeting, you take what you like and leave the rest.
My number-one slogan by far is HALT:
Hungry
Angry
Lonely
Tired
These are the top-four triggers for negative behavior. If I'm feeling in a foul mood, short-tempered, annoyed, fed-up, impatient, sad, or otherwise out of sorts, my ickiness can almost always be traced to one (or more) of these four sources. The same is true of my kids. When the are acting squirrely, the first thing I do is run through this list to try to identify what the source of their problem might be.
The good thing about this is that if I can identify the cause, I'm on my way to fixing it. Granted, some things are easier to fix than others. Hungry is the easiest one to remedy. Lonely? Not so much. But just having a label to put on my disquiet is a good step. When I'm short-tempered with the kids and I'm able to step back and figure out why, I try to be good about apologizing and saying, "I'm sorry I snapped; I'm feeling tired [hungry, lonely, angry] right now." They can't understand me right now, but I want to be in the habit of sharing my feelings with them for when they can understand, and I want them to practice naming their feelings, too.
24 January 2007
You Can't Always Get What You Want
When I was commenting at bg's little sis's blog a few days ago, I found myself writing this:
I actually feel like I do a decent job of focusing on the good stuff. But I have a confession to make: sometimes I'm living an Al-Anon slogan and totally doing the "fake it 'til you make it" routine.
The past few weeks have been one of those times.
I have been feeling like a victim of my own life. I started the year off sick. GH's cancer treatments weren't going well. I was taking my fear about that out on him. I have been behind at work, due to my own unwillingness to focus. The babies have colds. Riley has been getting teeth and not sleeping well. I have been doing the lion's share of housework and baby care while GH has been feeling under the weather. I am behind on personal projects. My mother-in-law is visiting for two weeks, which is a stressor for me. I have been generally crabby. I have just felt tired and lonely and scared and, well, depressed.
I have lots I want to blog about--a job interview, Maddie's physical therapy, my mother-in-law's visit, Peace Corps, Al-Anon, cancer. But rather than do any serious blogging, I've needed to spend some time thinking about how I can feel better mentally.
I don't have any magic bullet answers. I've thought a lot about what Al-Anon can offer me, and what I keep coming back to is that I am the one who needs to change. I need to adjust my attitude. I can't change people and I can't (for the most part) change circumstances. I can only change me.
I feel a lot of resentment about that. I don't want to change! I carry so much weight already. Why am I always the one who has to do all the work? At the same time, I know it's true that I have to be open to the idea that, with so many other things out of my control, I need to focus on what is in my control: myself. I need to remember that I don't have to do this on my own. I can ask for help from friends, family, and professionals. I can keep blogging, because the act of writing helps me see things more clearly and the community keeps me supported.
I felt a kind of epiphany about this as I drove home from work tonight. I had a great conversation with my father, an alcoholic with 15+ years of sobriety under his belt and a lot of program wisdom to share. When I got home, I tried to be more aware of my actions and my reactions. It was hard, but I was able not to snap at my mother-in-law over every little thing she does that drives me nuts. I was able to give my tired, treatment-weary husband a hug rather than harping on him about all the work I had to do today and how hard my life is. I was able to just be in the moment while playing with Maddie and Riley. It wasn't perfect and it's hard work, but it does work.
I'm sick of the fear, I'm sick of feeling blue. I'm ready to work on it. Or at least try.
I need to work on not feeling like a victim of my own life and focus on the many good things that are going on amongst the bad.
I actually feel like I do a decent job of focusing on the good stuff. But I have a confession to make: sometimes I'm living an Al-Anon slogan and totally doing the "fake it 'til you make it" routine.
The past few weeks have been one of those times.
I have been feeling like a victim of my own life. I started the year off sick. GH's cancer treatments weren't going well. I was taking my fear about that out on him. I have been behind at work, due to my own unwillingness to focus. The babies have colds. Riley has been getting teeth and not sleeping well. I have been doing the lion's share of housework and baby care while GH has been feeling under the weather. I am behind on personal projects. My mother-in-law is visiting for two weeks, which is a stressor for me. I have been generally crabby. I have just felt tired and lonely and scared and, well, depressed.
I have lots I want to blog about--a job interview, Maddie's physical therapy, my mother-in-law's visit, Peace Corps, Al-Anon, cancer. But rather than do any serious blogging, I've needed to spend some time thinking about how I can feel better mentally.
I don't have any magic bullet answers. I've thought a lot about what Al-Anon can offer me, and what I keep coming back to is that I am the one who needs to change. I need to adjust my attitude. I can't change people and I can't (for the most part) change circumstances. I can only change me.
I feel a lot of resentment about that. I don't want to change! I carry so much weight already. Why am I always the one who has to do all the work? At the same time, I know it's true that I have to be open to the idea that, with so many other things out of my control, I need to focus on what is in my control: myself. I need to remember that I don't have to do this on my own. I can ask for help from friends, family, and professionals. I can keep blogging, because the act of writing helps me see things more clearly and the community keeps me supported.
I felt a kind of epiphany about this as I drove home from work tonight. I had a great conversation with my father, an alcoholic with 15+ years of sobriety under his belt and a lot of program wisdom to share. When I got home, I tried to be more aware of my actions and my reactions. It was hard, but I was able not to snap at my mother-in-law over every little thing she does that drives me nuts. I was able to give my tired, treatment-weary husband a hug rather than harping on him about all the work I had to do today and how hard my life is. I was able to just be in the moment while playing with Maddie and Riley. It wasn't perfect and it's hard work, but it does work.
I'm sick of the fear, I'm sick of feeling blue. I'm ready to work on it. Or at least try.
16 January 2007
Becoming a Mother
I was never sure I wanted to be a mom. In fact, for most of my life, I was incredibly ambivalent about the whole idea. I was not a particularly nurturing child, wasn't that into dolls and playing house. My heroes were the protagonists of Madeleine L'Engle novels, young women who learned foreign languages, traveled the world, asserted their independence. It was hard for me to imagine how to reconcile having kids with a career as an international jet-setter.
I lived overseas twice in college. Then I lived in Africa for three years in the Peace Corps. Then I got a Masters degree in Interpretation and Translation, setting myself up for more travel. I lived and worked in Paris for a summer. I took and passed the Foreign Service exam and waited to be summoned for my career in international diplomacy. I had arrived.
Then the letter came in the mail inviting me to join a Foreign Service training group. This happened right around the time that George W. Bush was elected to office. Foreign Service officers are mouthpieces of US foreign policy. I had been told when I passed the Foreign Service exam that it would be my duty and obligation to always support US foreign policy when working, when out in public in my host country, and, depending on where I was posted, even in my own home as my house could be bugged. The thought that I would be out in the world promoting the sure-to-be-unpalatable policies of Dubya was more than I could bear.
By that time, I was also at an age (28) when many of my friends were getting married and starting families. My social circle was shrinking as people coupled off. I dated quite a bit, usually nice, smart people who were in retrospect clearly not right for me, but it was more fun to be coupled up than to be alone. I thought about life as a single woman overseas, life much confined to the expat community. Life very far away from my family. I started to think about my priorities in that regard. I realized that a Foreign Service career appealed to me because I love to live overseas, but that I'd rather do that on my own terms, not supporting untenable US policies and with a partner.
I declined to join the training group.
Time warp. I join Al-Anon and sort out some issues I had regarding intimate relationships. I find a job that I love. I meet and marry GH in August of 2004. I cannot believe my good fortune. I almost feel undeserving of such happiness.
GH and I talked about kids when we were dating, in that abstract way. By this point, I had come to feel that having kids is for me was linked to having the right partner. I was in no way interested in being a single mom. A devoted partner willing to share the job of parenting was key for me. And I found that person in GH.
Let's be clear: I was still not super-excited about being a parent. I was deeply fearful of how kids could get in the way of things I love to do: eat out, go to the movies, travel. I was selfish. But I figured we had some time to think about all this--we'd just gotten married.
Three weeks later: cancer diagnosis. We decide to bank sperm just in case, although GH's diagnosis was so dire that it almost seemed like a waste of time. Many people with his diagnosis are dead within months. We weren't willing to accept that, so off to the bank he went.
Those early days of GH's diagnosis were the first days I recall ever really wanting to have kids. The thought that GH could be ripped away from me, gone, poof, was too much for me to bear. "If we have kids," I thought, "I'll still have him here even when he's gone." Shortly before we got married, I'd read a blog written by someone who had lost her husband and after his death was using his banked sperm to have their child. I thought it was the saddest thing I'd ever read. I've long since lost the link. Suddenly, that could be come my life.
Luckily, GH responded well to treatment. I had to have surgery to remove fibroids before we could think of having kids. So, in I did, in March of 2005. And as soon as I got to the six-month-past-surgery mark, off to the RE we went to get on the fertility train.
My motivation for having kids was still at that point based on wanting to hang on to GH. Selfish me! What pressure to put on the kids! And yet, it was my coping mechanism. Faced with losing GH, I kept going by finding a way to keep him here with me. I think that's why the whole roller-coaster of IVF was relatively easy for me to handle emotionally. I could not save GH from cancer, but I had another way to save him. That was highly motivating for me.
It's probably a good thing that during all of this, I didn't give much thought to the fact that I was setting myself up to be a single mom. If I'd thought about that very much, I don't know if I could have gone through with the IVF. Not that it was my decision alone; GH was sure he wanted to have kids and I'm glad he is getting to experience fatherhood. But there would have been a lot more to talk about if I hadn't been so blindered by my desire to keep my husband here with me no matter what happened with the cancer.
I love my children more than I ever thought I could. Just today, I was thinking about Riley and about how I used to rock him to sleep every night, and I thought about how his little warm body would feel relaxed against me and the love I had for him made me cry. But at the same time, like most first-time parents, I'm totally overwhelmed by how hard it is to be a mom. The time it takes. The decisions you have to make. The second-guessing. The anger. Yes, all that is balanced out by the smiles, the hugs, the cuteness. But parenting is harder than anything I've done in my life until now by a long shot.
And I just can't imagine doing it alone. I know that a lot of people do. They have my utmost admiration and respect. And I will if I have to. But I still don't want to. Tonight, for example, I'm going to a moms of twins meeting after the babies go to bed. GH will be home with them. If I were alone, I'd have to find a babysitter, pay a babysitter. Would I bother? Maybe. Maybe not.
I've realized lately that a lot of my angry lashing out at GH comes from my fear of him dying. I get so mad that he might leave me! Not mad at him, mad at the horrible situation we're in. I don't want to be without him, not only because I love him so very much, but also because I do not want to be a single mom. At all. Especially not a single mom consumed with grief.
I'm glad we have the twins, but I'm so scared of what's to come. In the past, I've found that what I imagine is usually much worse than what actually happens. I'm one of those people who thinks that if someone is five minutes late arriving for a dinner date, they must have been in a fatal car accident or something. What I'm trying to say is that things have a way of working out. It's hard for me to imagine how this will all work out for me. It's hard for me to trust that what's happening in my life right now is what's supposed to happen, because it feel so, so awful sometimes. I constantly have to remind myself of what I can control and what I can't, what I need to let go of and what I can work on.
I may have said this in a post before, can't remember, but it seems a good way to end this one. I have three prayers: the Serenity Prayer, "Please," and "Thank you." I find that's all I need. Keep it simple, right? I need to keep the Serenity Prayer in mind a lot lately, but I'm not often good at remembering it when I need it. Maybe writing it out will bring it closer to my thoughts:
God, grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change,
the courage to change the things I can,
and the wisdom to know the difference.
I lived overseas twice in college. Then I lived in Africa for three years in the Peace Corps. Then I got a Masters degree in Interpretation and Translation, setting myself up for more travel. I lived and worked in Paris for a summer. I took and passed the Foreign Service exam and waited to be summoned for my career in international diplomacy. I had arrived.
Then the letter came in the mail inviting me to join a Foreign Service training group. This happened right around the time that George W. Bush was elected to office. Foreign Service officers are mouthpieces of US foreign policy. I had been told when I passed the Foreign Service exam that it would be my duty and obligation to always support US foreign policy when working, when out in public in my host country, and, depending on where I was posted, even in my own home as my house could be bugged. The thought that I would be out in the world promoting the sure-to-be-unpalatable policies of Dubya was more than I could bear.
By that time, I was also at an age (28) when many of my friends were getting married and starting families. My social circle was shrinking as people coupled off. I dated quite a bit, usually nice, smart people who were in retrospect clearly not right for me, but it was more fun to be coupled up than to be alone. I thought about life as a single woman overseas, life much confined to the expat community. Life very far away from my family. I started to think about my priorities in that regard. I realized that a Foreign Service career appealed to me because I love to live overseas, but that I'd rather do that on my own terms, not supporting untenable US policies and with a partner.
I declined to join the training group.
Time warp. I join Al-Anon and sort out some issues I had regarding intimate relationships. I find a job that I love. I meet and marry GH in August of 2004. I cannot believe my good fortune. I almost feel undeserving of such happiness.
GH and I talked about kids when we were dating, in that abstract way. By this point, I had come to feel that having kids is for me was linked to having the right partner. I was in no way interested in being a single mom. A devoted partner willing to share the job of parenting was key for me. And I found that person in GH.
Let's be clear: I was still not super-excited about being a parent. I was deeply fearful of how kids could get in the way of things I love to do: eat out, go to the movies, travel. I was selfish. But I figured we had some time to think about all this--we'd just gotten married.
Three weeks later: cancer diagnosis. We decide to bank sperm just in case, although GH's diagnosis was so dire that it almost seemed like a waste of time. Many people with his diagnosis are dead within months. We weren't willing to accept that, so off to the bank he went.
Those early days of GH's diagnosis were the first days I recall ever really wanting to have kids. The thought that GH could be ripped away from me, gone, poof, was too much for me to bear. "If we have kids," I thought, "I'll still have him here even when he's gone." Shortly before we got married, I'd read a blog written by someone who had lost her husband and after his death was using his banked sperm to have their child. I thought it was the saddest thing I'd ever read. I've long since lost the link. Suddenly, that could be come my life.
Luckily, GH responded well to treatment. I had to have surgery to remove fibroids before we could think of having kids. So, in I did, in March of 2005. And as soon as I got to the six-month-past-surgery mark, off to the RE we went to get on the fertility train.
My motivation for having kids was still at that point based on wanting to hang on to GH. Selfish me! What pressure to put on the kids! And yet, it was my coping mechanism. Faced with losing GH, I kept going by finding a way to keep him here with me. I think that's why the whole roller-coaster of IVF was relatively easy for me to handle emotionally. I could not save GH from cancer, but I had another way to save him. That was highly motivating for me.
It's probably a good thing that during all of this, I didn't give much thought to the fact that I was setting myself up to be a single mom. If I'd thought about that very much, I don't know if I could have gone through with the IVF. Not that it was my decision alone; GH was sure he wanted to have kids and I'm glad he is getting to experience fatherhood. But there would have been a lot more to talk about if I hadn't been so blindered by my desire to keep my husband here with me no matter what happened with the cancer.
I love my children more than I ever thought I could. Just today, I was thinking about Riley and about how I used to rock him to sleep every night, and I thought about how his little warm body would feel relaxed against me and the love I had for him made me cry. But at the same time, like most first-time parents, I'm totally overwhelmed by how hard it is to be a mom. The time it takes. The decisions you have to make. The second-guessing. The anger. Yes, all that is balanced out by the smiles, the hugs, the cuteness. But parenting is harder than anything I've done in my life until now by a long shot.
And I just can't imagine doing it alone. I know that a lot of people do. They have my utmost admiration and respect. And I will if I have to. But I still don't want to. Tonight, for example, I'm going to a moms of twins meeting after the babies go to bed. GH will be home with them. If I were alone, I'd have to find a babysitter, pay a babysitter. Would I bother? Maybe. Maybe not.
I've realized lately that a lot of my angry lashing out at GH comes from my fear of him dying. I get so mad that he might leave me! Not mad at him, mad at the horrible situation we're in. I don't want to be without him, not only because I love him so very much, but also because I do not want to be a single mom. At all. Especially not a single mom consumed with grief.
I'm glad we have the twins, but I'm so scared of what's to come. In the past, I've found that what I imagine is usually much worse than what actually happens. I'm one of those people who thinks that if someone is five minutes late arriving for a dinner date, they must have been in a fatal car accident or something. What I'm trying to say is that things have a way of working out. It's hard for me to imagine how this will all work out for me. It's hard for me to trust that what's happening in my life right now is what's supposed to happen, because it feel so, so awful sometimes. I constantly have to remind myself of what I can control and what I can't, what I need to let go of and what I can work on.
I may have said this in a post before, can't remember, but it seems a good way to end this one. I have three prayers: the Serenity Prayer, "Please," and "Thank you." I find that's all I need. Keep it simple, right? I need to keep the Serenity Prayer in mind a lot lately, but I'm not often good at remembering it when I need it. Maybe writing it out will bring it closer to my thoughts:
God, grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change,
the courage to change the things I can,
and the wisdom to know the difference.
21 November 2006
Sorting Things Out + A Quote with Thoughts
I'm still working on the template. This might take a while. One element that is not working for me is the "Currently Reading" link.
Which segues me into my next topic: a quote. I have been reading Ursula Hegi's Salt Dancers*. Here is a quote from the book in which the main character describes her feelings for her husband, early in their marriage:
I remember feeling that way. I still feel that way even though an illness is trying to claim him. Now when I wake up at night, I have a brief moment where I am awed by the beauty that is my life. Then one word, cancer, makes its way to the forefront of my mind and while I remain grateful for the countless blessings that are mine, I also become taut and angry about what the disease is trying to take away.
Lately, as GH has not been feeling so well and as it seems that cancer is getting the upper hand, I've been dealing with a lot of fear. It ranges from small-scale fear (Will GH be able to get up in the night to help me with the twins?) to large-scale (How on earth will I even begin to function without GH?) It's overwhelming. I know I need to just focus on the now and try not to worry about what the future holds, but damn if that isn't hard.
I was really inspired by this post over at Sojournering (the church part, not the potential social gaffe part [OTRgirl, if you're reading, I don't think it was as bad as you think it was!). I'm a total mess about religion, one of those "spiritual but not religious" people when people ask, but more of a believer without a home at heart. All this fear and uncertainty in my life has often made me contemplate going to church. I hate to use the words "good outlet" and "resource" to describe a place of worship, but I think church could be both of those things for me. But which church? So many churches have social views that I find unacceptable. Maybe the Quakers? The UUs?
For a long time, Al-Anon was my religion.** When GH and I bought our condo, shortly before I became pregnant with the twins, we moved quite far away from my home meeting and I just never got back into it what with all the pregnancy and cancer stuff we had going on. It was in Al-Anon that I started to think more about religion rather than just rejecting the idea outright. I have shared at many Al-Anon meetings that I have three prayers: Please, Thank You, and the Serenity Prayer. I find that those three cover all of my bases. Frankly, those three prayers are in many ways enough religion for me right now. It's just not very social of me to have three prayers I say when I need them, and it's the social aspect that I'm starting to crave.
I don't know how to wrap this up. This is more of a think-aloud than anything, more questions than answers, and mostly unformed thoughts. Fruitful topic, though, and I imagine I'll return to it now that it's on the table.
* Aside: I tried to read Hegi's Stones from the River some years back. I could not get through it. I'm enjoying this book enough that I might give Stones another try.
** I've never blogged about my Al-Anon experience. To be honest, I'm not sure if it's a violation of the principles of Al-Anon to talk about the fact that I'm a member and share what I've said at meetings. I think it's OK as long as I don't talk about other people from meetings. In any case, someday I'll get into how I got into Al-Anon; for now, suffice it to say that my 17-years-sober father is my qualifier.
Which segues me into my next topic: a quote. I have been reading Ursula Hegi's Salt Dancers*. Here is a quote from the book in which the main character describes her feelings for her husband, early in their marriage:
Those early years with Andreas, I'd sometimes woken up at night, my love for him stretching every cell of my body with fear because so many accidents and illnesses could claim him from me. Those nights I couldn't imagine how I could possibly continue without him.
I remember feeling that way. I still feel that way even though an illness is trying to claim him. Now when I wake up at night, I have a brief moment where I am awed by the beauty that is my life. Then one word, cancer, makes its way to the forefront of my mind and while I remain grateful for the countless blessings that are mine, I also become taut and angry about what the disease is trying to take away.
Lately, as GH has not been feeling so well and as it seems that cancer is getting the upper hand, I've been dealing with a lot of fear. It ranges from small-scale fear (Will GH be able to get up in the night to help me with the twins?) to large-scale (How on earth will I even begin to function without GH?) It's overwhelming. I know I need to just focus on the now and try not to worry about what the future holds, but damn if that isn't hard.
I was really inspired by this post over at Sojournering (the church part, not the potential social gaffe part [OTRgirl, if you're reading, I don't think it was as bad as you think it was!). I'm a total mess about religion, one of those "spiritual but not religious" people when people ask, but more of a believer without a home at heart. All this fear and uncertainty in my life has often made me contemplate going to church. I hate to use the words "good outlet" and "resource" to describe a place of worship, but I think church could be both of those things for me. But which church? So many churches have social views that I find unacceptable. Maybe the Quakers? The UUs?
For a long time, Al-Anon was my religion.** When GH and I bought our condo, shortly before I became pregnant with the twins, we moved quite far away from my home meeting and I just never got back into it what with all the pregnancy and cancer stuff we had going on. It was in Al-Anon that I started to think more about religion rather than just rejecting the idea outright. I have shared at many Al-Anon meetings that I have three prayers: Please, Thank You, and the Serenity Prayer. I find that those three cover all of my bases. Frankly, those three prayers are in many ways enough religion for me right now. It's just not very social of me to have three prayers I say when I need them, and it's the social aspect that I'm starting to crave.
I don't know how to wrap this up. This is more of a think-aloud than anything, more questions than answers, and mostly unformed thoughts. Fruitful topic, though, and I imagine I'll return to it now that it's on the table.
* Aside: I tried to read Hegi's Stones from the River some years back. I could not get through it. I'm enjoying this book enough that I might give Stones another try.
** I've never blogged about my Al-Anon experience. To be honest, I'm not sure if it's a violation of the principles of Al-Anon to talk about the fact that I'm a member and share what I've said at meetings. I think it's OK as long as I don't talk about other people from meetings. In any case, someday I'll get into how I got into Al-Anon; for now, suffice it to say that my 17-years-sober father is my qualifier.
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