In all our affairs

Recovery is about so much more than sobriety: Fact. Sober thinking often takes considerably longer than simply abstaining from our substance(s) of behaviour(s) of choice: Fact #2. Practising recovery, in all one's affairs, is perhaps best thought of as the business of a lifetime...

So I am coming to believe...

You can take the brandy out of the fruit cake, but you're still left with a fruit cake. The awkward and unpalatable truth in recovery, is that the road often gets steeper and narrower before we discover the promised land. Take the substance of behaviour of choice out of the equation and you are left with the illness. As I was reminded by someone who's been around more than a few days, it's an 'ism' not a 'was-m'.

So what is this 'ism'? An Internal Spiritual Maladjustment? The I, Self, Me syndrome? These resonate. So too does Incredibly Short Memory. This is why, for me, recovery is a daily priority. What gives me peace of mind and well being today may not work tomorrow. I have a tendency to fall asleep. Not literally, but psychologically, I become blinded to even the simplest of truths; I want things to be other than they are. Recovery is about falling awake. Waking up to my truth, and to the truth.

Jung spoke of this spiritual malady - the void known all too well by many who has fallen pray to the relentless grip of addiction - a cavity no human power can adequately fill. To those of us in recovery it becomes plain to see our powerlessness in the face of this void which we may have attempted to fill by any means known to us. These attempts were, however briefly, the solution to the problem we left unaddressed. Ours is a problem of living. Our healing, if it is to be sufficient, must address this.

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Table. Apple. Penny.

Whilst there were several places I might have been that morning, I wouldn't have been anywhere else. The practitioner from the Memory Service arrived promptly. I liked her instantly. Mum was nervous. I think I was a little, too. It's been a difficult year. "It's Friday, it's the fourteenth of December and I'm at home..." No problems there. CAMCOG, or the Cambridge Cognitive Examination is a thorough assessment tool used to assess the extent of extent of dementia, and to assess the level of cognitive impairment. The standardised measure assesses orientation, language, memory, praxis, attention, abstract thinking, perception and calculation. "Table. Apple. Penny." Three everyday items that were introduced at one point, and then referred to again later on. Again, Mum was able to recall each. I am reminded that the...

Glass half full? Glass half empty? Or perhaps the glass is broken

I am, constitutionally, a glass half empty gal. I will always first acknowledge what I don't have, what I have lost, and what it is that I am seeking. I tend to overlook my strengths, concentrating only on those bits of me that are underdeveloped or weak. I refer to myself as a realist, but in doing so compliment myself and insult those who genuinely are simply realistic. My modus operandi is to identify what's not working and acknowledge this before seeing more clearly what functions perfectly well. This has its place: I edit others' written work pretty well. My fastidious attention to detail serves me, and the author. Accuracy counts, for me and I have an excellent memory. I can remember a great many of my sessions with clients verbatim. Even this asset is something I can, and do, diminish the true value of, by concentrating on 'I should have said...' or 'why didn't.... occur to me during the session?' Earlier this we...

Pausing in the sunshine

And so, chemo is over. My best friend's diary has been chocker... Line cleans, blood tests, scans and 18 weekly doses of the gruelling treatment itself. Summer seems at last to have arrived and with it, we hope, some time, peace and space. She is, we acknowledged over a rather yummy luncheon served to us beneath the beautiful canopy of creepers and climbers at Petersham Nurseries, an inspiration. A small group of us gathered to celebrate her forthcoming marriage. The sun's rays joined the warmth we all have for this very special woman. Warmth and, in my case at least, pride. It is the greatest privilege to call this woman my best friend. She continues to epitomise my understanding of grace. Our bodies are fragile things. Our minds are frailer still. In her composure and wisdom, she possesses an outlook I can only aspire to adopt. From you, dear Charlotte, I learn and I learn and I learn. The ...

The Reward is the Journey

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