These words, on first glance, evoke in me a sense of optimism.
Who doesn’t love having something to believe in? In our darkest moments, clinging to a belief, something outside of our current reality can be lifesaving. (Go to your happy place!)
And how about some restoration? A literal picture for me is a deserted Victorian home, or a farmhouse in disrepair meeting a restoration carpenter and being brought back to architectural glory.
Like Powerless and unmanageable, however, there are always multiple ways to look at and experience these words in the context of the twelve steps.
So here we go. This week’s podcast is on Step Two.
Came to believe a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.
I had an easy(ish) time on this one. I have always believed in God and have invoked prayer in both times of celebration and times of trial for my whole life. Believing in a power greater than myself is not a problem!
I got this!
But the step doesn’t end there, and this is where my struggle appears. We are not only being asked to believe in the higher power, we are being asked to acknowledge that such belief, and acting on it, can retore us to sanity.
Sanity?
I am not even sure what that is for me, how it feels, looks, sounds, tastes or smells. Have I ever been sane? I mean I know that I am not INsane. I have seen people in the throes of severe psychosis, and that has never been me. But I have also seen people who are level and calm and always seem to have it all together, and that has never really been me either.
Don’t compare your insides to other people outside Barbara Jeannie! (thank you Ellie!)
Like much of what I say when teaching and coaching athletes, statements like this are easier said than done. I am so very good at knowing just what to say to those asking for advice. Following that advice myself? Not so much.
To restore oneself to sanity one must be able to picture this sanity, yes?
As I type this sentence I see and feel my usual “never mind” “forget it” “ok fine” mindset begins to creep in. Can’t I use my inability to clearly visualize sanity as an excuse to bail on Step Two? A reason to go back to unhealthy and stagnant behaviors? This is a behavior I have mastered, the quick quit when I feel overwhelmed or tired of always having to try so damned hard.
Oohhhh, I get it now, this is where the coming to believe comes in to play, that my higher power can assist me in this, that my belief in the strength and love of my higher power will guide me back to this ever-elusive picture of sanity I have created in an effort to keep me guessing.
I gaslight myself! Because to return to sanity indicates I have once been there, even if I don’t see it.
Chapter Two in Breathing Underwater was magnificent. It focused on having the reader recalling events that required faith and surrender. (Molly’s death came right to mind). Next was some work on opening the opinionated head, the closed-down heart, and the defensive and defended body. There is guidance and activities suggested to work on these things.
It brought me back to my sabbatical in 2008. An elementary school health curriculum creation. The three elements of health, social, emotional, and physical are a spot-on match here. Contemplating real life events, actions, decisions and choices as they relate to mind, heart, body.
The journal questions and breathing lessons in this chapter helped me overcome my initial desire to bag it. As I worked through the activities the realization became clear, I most certainly DO understand sanity as it relates to me, I just feel that I do not deserve it.
I am a journey person. When I go on a vacation, the travel is as much a part of the experience as the destination. So much happens in the journey. There is anticipation in the beginning of any journey, sometimes filled with eternal optimism and sometimes with desperate desiring.
In the analysis of my stubborn mind, closed heart and defeated body I came to see that my self-hatred and feelings of unworthiness were grounded in my childhood pleas to God that my abuse stop. I cleaned my room and burned my pajamas and wrote in my diary.
It wasn’t until I finally told someone that it stopped. And then came the question, the one that solidified what I felt was my complicity, “why didn’t you tell someone when it first began?” “Why have you kept this secret?”
If anything solidified my feelings of unworthiness it was this. I remember my sister sharing with me a time someone was trying to molest her. (Not our father) and she shared how she told him to cut it out or she would scream. He stopped and never tried to hurt her again.
While this may all sound bleak, it is so very good to look at these events with the perspective 50 years’ time can give. There is then some work on forgiveness, not teaching you how, rather simple reflection on past experiences with both giving and getting forgiveness. Then, recollections of times when people did simple things to offer comfort and support.
The journal questions then move on to an observation of where, in the body, you carry your stress. This was also a bit tougher for me than I anticipated. I am the master of disassociation. I call it stepping out and I can pretty much do it on command. (Hmmmm maybe I AM insane sometimes!) It was a healthy way for me to connect and to make it easier, I did much of this reflecting on the rowing machine.
Finally, being asked to look at how we impede our own growth, how we hamstring success and highjack healing.
Again. This is my jam!!
I quit, I give up, I submit, I self-degrade, I believe the lies, all of it. I can actually hear the voices of specific people in my head telling me all of the things I believe about myself. “This is all your fault” (Roy) “You admit you’re a compulsive liar” (Aimee) “You did exactly what I told you not to do when I hired you” (Rath) “You’re a racist” (Steph) “Do this, it will make you feel better” (Doug) “Don’t tell your mother/father” (my parents) “You’re so homely you’re cute” (Eric)
Committing these to print is so very freeing. Take them away universe, I bequeath my insecurities to you!
The breathing lessons were terrific. Take care of your body this week. Sing, dance, exercise, meditate, eat well, do right brained activities to open your inner cage. I do all of these things pretty consistently anyway, which is why I feel I am as solid as I am in my trauma filled life.
Then, the one that will be hard for me. We are asked to meditate and reflect on a quote, to “find a creative way to keep it with you all week. Hmmmm this will be interesting. The quote is lovely, and easily removed from a religious deity, I think I will write it on note cards and place them all around the house and in my car.
“May the God of Peace make you whole and holy; may you be kept safe in body, heart and mind, and thus ready for the presence. God has called you and will not fail you.” (1Thessalonians 5:23-24)
And then the poem. So many good words! I am beginning to feel the life of the water in my lungs, as I grow rather than wilt in its smooth embrace. (God help me!)
Breathing Under Water
I built my house by the sea.
Not on the sands, mind you.
Not on the shifting sand.
And I built it of rock.
A strong house.
By a strong sea.
And we got well acquainted, the sea and I.
Good neighbors.
Not that we spoke much.
We met in silences.
Respectful, keep our distance,
But looking our thoughts across the fence of sand.
And then one day,
(I still don’t know how it happened), but the sea came.
With out warning. Without welcome, even.
Not sudden and swift, but a sifting across the sand like wine.
Less like the flow of water than the flow of blood.
Slow, but coming.
Slow, but flowing like an open wound.
And I thought of flight and I thought of drowning and I thought of death.
And while I thought the sea crept higher, till it reached my door.
I knew, then, there was neither flight nor death nor drowning.
That when the sea comes calling you stop being good neighbors.
Well acquainted, friendly-from-a-distance, neighbors.
And you give your house for a coral castle,
And you learn to breathe underwater. -Carol Bialock
