Go With The Flow

Let go of fear and your need to control.

Relinquish anxiety.

Let it slip away, as you dive into the river of the present moment, the river of your life, your place in the universe.

Stop trying to force the direction.

Try not to swim against the current, unless it is necessary for your survival.

If you've been clinging to a branch at the riverside, let go.

Let yourself move forward. Let yourself be moved forward.

Avoid the rapids when possible.

If you can't, stay relaxed.

Staying relaxed can take you safely through fierce currents.

If you go under for a moment, allow yourself to surface naturally.

You will.

Don't think too hard about things.

The flow is meant to be experienced.

Within it, care for yourself.

You are part of the flow, an important part.

Work with the flow.

Work within the flow.

Thrashing about isn't necessary.

Let the flow help you care for yourself.

Let it help you set boundaries, make decisions, and get you where you need to be when it is time.

You can trust the flow, and your part in it.

Today, I will go with the flow.

The Language of Letting Go by Melody Beattie

Rewards

Most importantly, I know who I am, I know my goals, dreams, values, and boundaries, and I know how to protect, nurture, and validate them.

Those are the true rewards of sobriety, and they're what I was looking for all along. . .

I came to AA in order to stop drinking; what I received in return was my life.

Alcoholics Anonymous, p. 327

 

The privilege of a lifetime is being who you are.

 

STOP = Sobriety Tops Our Priorities.

The Mayonnaise Jar and 2 Cups of Coffee

When things in your life seem almost too much to handle, when 24 hours in a day are not enough, remember the mayonnaise jar and the 2 cups of coffee.

A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him.
When the class began, he wordlessly picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls.
He then asked the students if the jar was full.

They agreed that it was.

The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar.
He shook the jar lightly.
The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls.
He then asked the students again if the jar was full.

They agreed it was.

The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar.
Of course, the sand filled up everything else.
He asked once more if the jar was full.
The students responded with an unanimous "yes."

The professor then produced two cups of coffee from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar effectively filling the empty space between the sand.

The students laughed.

Now, said the professor as the laughter subsided, I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life.
The golf balls are the important things---your family, your children, your health, y our friends and your favorite passions---and if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.

The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house and your car.
The sand is everything else---the small stuff.

If you put the sand into the jar first, he continued, there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls.
The same goes for life.
If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff you will never have room for t he things that are important to you.

Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness.
Spend time with your children.
Spend time with your parents.
Visit with grandparents.
Take time to get medical checkups.
Take your spouse out to dinner.
Play another 18.

There will always be time to clean the house and fix the disposal.
Take care of the golf balls first---the things that really matter.
Set your priorities.
The rest is just sand.

One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the coffee represented.

The professor smiled and said, I'm glad you asked.

The coffee just shows you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a couple of cups of coffee with a friend.

A Keeper

Their marriage was good, their dreams focused.
Their best friends lived barely a wave away.
I can see them now, Dad in trousers, work shirt and a hat; and Mom in a house dress, lawn mower in one hand, and dish-towel in the other.
It was the time for fixing things: a curtain rod, the kitchen radio, screen door, the oven door, the hem in a dress.
Things we keep.

It was a way of life, and sometimes it made me crazy.
All that re-fixing, re-heating leftovers, renewing; I wanted just once to be wasteful.
Waste meant affluence.
Throwing things away meant you knew there'd always be more.

But when my mother died, and I was standing in that clear morning light in the warmth of the hospital room, I was struck with the pain of learning that sometimes there isn't any more.

Sometimes, what we care about most gets all used up and goes away . . . never to return.
So while we have it, it's best we love it . . .
And care for it . . .
And fix it when it's broken . . .
And heal it when it's sick.

This is true:
For marriage . . .
And old cars . . .
And children with bad report cards . . .
Dogs and cats with bad hips . . .
And aging parents . . .
And grandparents.
We keep them because they are worth it, because we are worth it.
Some things we keep, like a best friend that moved away or a classmate we grew up with.

There are just some things that make life important, like people we know who are special . . . And so, we keep them close!



Good friends are like stars . . . You don't always see them, but you know they are always there!