Daily Reflection “A Unique Stability”

February is winding down, and spring is around the corner, but something tells me not to get too excited yet because, in Kansas City on March 23, 1912, there were 16.1 inches of snow to land in one day and 7.3 inches on March 20, 2010, for that day.

Here is a fun thought. Snow can be fun when the mindset prepares itself.

The reading speaks on exceptional stability in recovery rooms by quoting Tradition two, a loving power invited into space for comfort. Yet again, if people struggle to understand that power, comfort will not be for all.

I have come to understand that my ability to change my mindset can bring about contentment for the moment. I don’t have to accept and believe in anything that might bring up the pain of trauma. Still, my experience has been that the discomfort will surface until I acknowledge the emotion(s), then accept what emerges, and then into action to change. I call it the AAA process.

Love for me is to accept people where they are without judgment and criticism. I don’t have to crosstalk or claim that people have to believe in this or that, or anything. I know my program is mine to manage and that I don’t have to take on that role for anyone else. The acceptance is a great relief and represents soundness of mind and causes me to laugh at me with kindness.

On a fun note, the reading’s word “fabric” reminds me of how I learned to knit in the program. I made this humongous blanket of multiple colors: pink, green, yellow, and blue. It’s lopsided uneven, stretchy, but cute. At the time, I didn’t realize that it represents and welcomes the LBGQTI into my space with those multicolor. I treasure my artwork, and I utilize it for my prayer blanket. It’s soft and cozy, like a security network.

It was that blanket that started a unique friendship with others, and men too were knitting. I cherish the gift of sobriety along with the much camaraderie along the way. I acknowledge my higher power and give all the praise for lessons encountered. When I arrived in the recovery rooms was like being blanketed into an igloo for love and protection —I am so thankful for a mindset to continue and welcome that unknown.

Peace and love. Feel free to share and invite others. To unsubscribe, say so. The reading is attached.  

Author, Lynda M.

Daily Reflection “No Ordinary Success Story”

The successor defines success, and the stories can vary from minute’ to whoopers.

Here is a fun thought. If there’s no fun and laughter, then there won’t be much success.

My journey of writing a response to the Daily Reflection is coming to an end, in fact, within 14 days. I have been writing for 351 days straight. It’s impressive, and I have genuinely enjoyed this excursion.  I realize my avoidance of sharing openly and honestly about my gifts of staying sober one day at a time.

The reason is that it seems as if I am boasting, so I hold back. The same way I do with clothing. I hold back to keep from gaining attention. Yet on page 132 of the Big Book states, “We are not a glum lot,” and I’m not. So since I have aired my dirty laundry for so long, and after speaking honestly with a sponsoree, she questioned why I reserve myself.

I contemplated her question, and for some reason, I don’t want to make anyone feel bad. It’s like me judging people or expecting that they will criticize me. That is ludicrous as I write this statement. Nonetheless, during my time in Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE), it was brutal and corporate America. Although some of the feedback I received was constructive, it still has left a strong impact that causes me to be afraid (there is that word again). The mental abuse started that of backlash that became criticism that I latched out with resentments galore, some that still haven’t dissipated, although I claim differently.

Nevertheless, I have accomplished memorable milestones since getting sober. In fact, within a year of sobriety, I started my company and no longer have to deal with anyone that I don’t want to work with, and that’s enormous. I think about International trips that I have adventured, sober, and relished the heck out of some places that speak foreign languages, like Hungary. Body language was my primary communication source in Hungarian culture, and it didn’t matter because I still had a magnificent time. 

My most enjoyable fun is camping in my tent on a river, burning wood, watching the stars and the moon at night. Sleeping out when the temperature the next morning was below freezing, so that is why it’s a must to hooch the tent, which makes everything toasty.

Sobriety has afforded me the luxury of living, and it doesn’t have any financial costs; that’s rich in the spirit of receiving and can cause anyone to have joy. Not only that, I can party despite that others might be drinking around me. I still can and have stayed sober because living life in sobriety is no ordinary success story.

Peace and love. Feel free to share and invite others. To unsubscribe, say so. The reading is attached.

Author, Lynda M.

Daily Reflection “The Challenge of Failure”

The conception law of conservation is that matter is not created or destroyed.

Here is a pondering thought. Why do humans choose to destruct?

I interpret the reading as challenges regarding failure. Those disappointments provide recycling opportunities to examine one’s aptitude to appreciate life if they survive in the process.

To me, it’s startling and miraculous how many hazards I endured before comprehending that I was burning a fuse and the wick was on its final ignition to burning it all to the ground. No human power, I will emphasize “No one,” could tell me that I needed help.

It was all in the works how my path unfolded. It all began in that alcoholic household as a kid. In that six-room house, fenced-in yard on 12th street with those six siblings that I love, yet with them, I go stir-crazy most times. All those fights in grade school thinking I was saving the underdogs. A high school dropout and married at sixteen. A turbulent ending in divorce with the fear of being a horrible mom to our daughter as a single woman, and then he died from a gunshot wound from a murderer.

Being lead into the arms of a comforter eventually erupted for me to find the program. I had to resuscitate myself for the sole purpose of adhering to my calling of being an advocate that steered me to living an abundant life. To share my experience, strength, and hope with others to know that alcoholism is a fatal dis-ease that anticipates self-inflict, capture, ripples its effects onto others in the juggler’s way before eventually sabotaging its imprisonment prey.

I accept my failures challenges because I outlasted my will to die. And in my higher power’s eyes, the chaotic distress was all necessary. So I take responsibility for my lot, humility and all, that if it’s my higher power’s will, it’s a testament for me—oh, what a treasured gift to be thriving.

Peace and love. Feel free to share and invite others. To unsubscribe, say so. The reading is attached.  

Author, Lynda M.

Daily Reflection “A Thankful Heart”

I have a thankful heart and a grateful spirit, to know that recovery is an inside job, and no amount of pounding, coercing, demanding, claiming can change that for me, but me.

My character defects default regularly, and the main one is fear.

I am thankful for the people I encounter, those who don’t know that they are challenging me, but they are. Regardless if I get disappointed, go in rage, cry, demand that I will get my way, the bottom line is that I have to come to terms with the fear. In other words, can I name what the fear is? Is it imaginary? Is it false evidence appearing real?  

I heard recently more than once within the last few weeks of people setting timers to remind them to pray and meditate. I thought that is too much work. I have no idea why my first impression of making a change with anything comes off as an inconvenience. I realize that perhaps that is a way to protect myself, so I am not disappointed with an outcome. Yet, that is false also because I don’t intentionally make that claim. It’s automatic that I want things to be easy, my way, and if not, then I should finagle a way to make something work in my favor. That is lying, so I have to be cautious with my intentions or default back to secrets, lying, and cheating.   

If I am only willing to adventure into unfamiliar territory, I have no idea what the outcome will be. I think about my decision to venture out to ACA Adult Children of Alcoholics. I was so fearful at the beginning. Not that I am not still scared, but I am starting to become somewhat comfortable with faces. 

I have completed a survey on how my work to recover is mine to do. If I put my hand in a bucket of water and remove my hand, the water is still there. That tells me that regardless if I attempt to face my fears or not, the world around me will continue to evolve. I have to place principles before personalities, and many times, those principles are before my fears. The only success I have gained is realizing that I need help outside myself, which helps me live in an attitude of gratitude for this knowledge.

I am grateful that my excuses for blaming others for my detoured journey are mine to handle. I can pick up where I left off and decide if and where I want to go. I have no timeframe to complete, and it’s my journey to mend the broken pieces of my life—twenty-four hours at a time, so grateful that I am alive—that’s why I have a thankful heart.

Peace and love. Feel free to share and invite others. To unsubscribe, say so. The reading is attached.

Author, Lynda M.

Daily Reflection “Mysterious Paradoxes”

When there is no idea of where I have been, then certainly there is no realization of what’s possible in recovery.

Here is a contemplative thought. When there is digging, there is a subbasement below the bottom.

I laughed as I wrote that sentence above because it is true for me. When I would think I wouldn’t do that or haven’t done that, all those did become a reality. I suppose there is so much more to that if I ever decide I need to experiment some more.

Today has been bittersweet. Anytime I celebrate an anniversary of the sort, like my daughter’s birthday, I have a trail of tears of what our life was like at a poignant time in her life.  The tears roll like a tub that has overflowed. I am grateful that I get the sense to see my cup half full instead of half-empty because I am not that young girl today. I was seventeen when I gave birth.

The reading is spot on about paradoxes. Yet, I delight in calling it oxymoron sorts of things. For example, I am powerless over many things, ultimately turning it over to a greater understanding and receiving empowerment to do the next right thing. That is influential. I notice more frequently when I make an effort at anything, and there is usually some type of payoff, like writing for 348 days straight. I know my writing has improved, and I have received some vibrant compliments, and I am grateful.  

I think about the number of people that have no idea that they have helped me, and I can only imagine maybe my words have helped someone too. I know for certain that no matter how much exertion I input into changing my behavior, it’s my responsibility to accept my improvements. Otherwise, I can continue to hold on to whom I use to be and fail to recognize my development, and pretty soon will settle and claim my previous life with the chaotic drug scene.

I know there is a higher self in me. In other words, there is always room for improvement, but I can also appreciate and enjoy the fruits of my labor today. There comes a time when I need to unload that bag of stumbles I have carried over the years. It’s me acknowledging that deep belief in myself, so I can stand tall and know that the life I have today has been worth the journey.

I know my expedition and where I am today is a miraculous revolution. So I am grateful for the prematurity, immaturity, and maturity of my life. My transformation is a woman with dignity, integrity, with a splash of spicy and a whole bunch of serenity, and I sure am appreciative of my existence.

Peace and love. Feel free to share and invite others. To unsubscribe, say so. The reading is attached. 

Author, Lynda M.

Daily Reflection “Guidance”

I remember hearing a long time ago to turn off the TV, eat many peaches, and try to find a higher power that I understand.

Here is a sombering thought. More than 500,000 Americans have died from COVID-19.

I despise anyone telling me what to do. The reading was like fingernails on a chalkboard. I squinted my eyes and tried to read it and find a way to respond because suggestions are only that. I get to decide if they will be beneficial for my wellbeing, or I can continue to ignore and deal with the consequences. Undesirable habits to break for me are challenging, and I understand that because I am stubborn. When I continuously fail at improving, I ask for help to overcome something, then I am more successful at succeeding.

My mind often tries to conjure thoughts of my ancestors—what adversity they endured and their challenges. Yet, what I do accept is that their energy is like a wind in my sail pushing against my back that propels me to have the willingness to continue the push forward. When I am struggling, I gravitate towards that energy that wants to see me succeed.

Many days I don’t want to do the next right thing. I want to be in Lynda’s will, especially when the sun is shining, and that not’s good. I also realize that I have been in isolation for almost a year. It’s been 347 days, exact. I have been writing a reflection each day for that long also. Most people will probably be happier than me that the writings will come to an end soon. In eighteen days, to be precise. I will have responded to each Daily Reflection for 365 days. This work has been guidance outside me because I can be selfish, so I am grateful.

My life’s guidance has been that of energy so powerful that I want to run. But today, I am not running from my responsibilities but towards them. I want to complete all the things I need, like prepare my taxes for the accountant, my daughter’s birthday is tomorrow, and I want it to top last year. So my mind claims extravagance, which it never is. It’s as if I remember her as a child with balloons, trinkets, served with a side of cake and ice cream, and all her girlfriends were spending the night. Instead, I plan to prepare her supper and deliver it to her doorstep.

Today my guidance is reflecting that vacation is in the works, a car trip, and nature. All I have to deal with is the next right thing in front of me. Stay sober; otherwise, none of the previously mentioned things are possible. So I am grateful that I am alive—the image of these things is perfect in my higher power’s eyes.

Peace and love. Feel free to share and invite others. To unsubscribe, say so. The reading is attached.

Author, Lynda M.

Daily Reflection “I’m Part of the Whole”

During my meditation today, I visualized the abundance of love that surrounded me with more than 800 people on the call, that I keep the focus on my recovery.

Here is a pondering thought. Love happens.

The statement above is true regardless of the love for hate, money, prestige, power, things, people, self, or whatever.

I thought the opposite of the reading because I didn’t see the people as lovely when I arrived in the recovery room. I thought they were all crazy and that I was never going back. Yet, my higher power had another plan for me because my naivety had run its course. I knew deep down that I needed help, and not only that, but I wanted the help. Something in that particular room lured me back the next day, and I continue to gravitate towards the love of light, especially since that specific room lines with numerous windows.

Many cannot deny that 2020 was a spark in the hidden lens of hate. The curse of being in society will claim that I should replicate, and if someone doesn’t like me, I should not like them. Sure, there have been a few people since that time that we have parted ways, and I don’t regret that. Still, I also know that there is something there that no one can erase what predecessors left for others. Anyone who wants to acknowledge that they belong in that room where it all started is welcome.

The whole is me deciding I want to be involved and not excluded. Again, my mind will tell me that hate seeks to capture me in its web and intertwine me into a knot so strong that the bondage is unbreakable, but that’s a lie. Yet, I know that with my higher power’s energy, no adversity is too heavy-duty because drinks and drugs will only worsen the situation. I have too many experiments that confirm this belief.

I choose love today. I want to be persistent that smiles can consistently generate adoration on faces. Despite the resistance, some things do change in spaces that at one point might have been filled with intolerance. Vibrant energy can be powerful, like a sliver of butter drizzling on a hot baked honey bun.

Hate is a choice and can permeate damage to my spirit. I see that the vulnerability of people sharing reveals the susceptibility of us all. Knowing this is to comprehend when the blame is mine to keep. I have learned to comingle in areas that might start as startling, eventually have become comfortable enough for me to stay. I decide to listen, participate, and shell those blinders of false hope. Wow. The thought feels so smooth to my soul that I plan to come back again tomorrow.

Peace and love. Feel free to share and invite others. To unsubscribe, say so. The reading is attached.

Author, Lynda M.

Daily Reflection “The Gift of Laughter”

My mind tells me my most fun with laughter was when I was drinking, living on the edge, lying, stealing, cheating, sexing, and swinging in the clubs, but my problem centers in my mind.

Self-pity, ego-feeding deceptions go hand in hand for me. I accept that I can deceive myself because I have expectations, usually of others, that may never materialize. I heard tonight at a meeting, “Do I want to be completely well?” Of course, I would say yes, but am I willing to go to any lengths for that to happen?

I question how one can be whole if they don’t know what needs fixing? When I can identify with my behavior(s), my instincts will tell me something is missing, and usually, it’s that connection with me. In other words, I am not fully aware of what I need when I am too busy trying to fix other people, places, and things. To be in connection with myself is an intentional task with a purpose, a daily ritual of being present with me, literally. I do this with walking and some with meditation, but mainly with the former.

I cannot live outside myself and search for ways to be whole, joining this group, that group, buying material things, indulging in foods, and anything, and everything, and expecting to heal. Yet, the idea of going inward to identify with the emotions I might be feeling is where the healing begins. When I am in touch with myself, I have to be honest with what I am grappling with by speaking that truth to my higher power, asking for help with the restoration of healing and pronounce that claim to at least another, like a sponsor that perhaps can help steer my thinking.

In my household growing up, there was never a clear picture of “wholeness,” per se. There was screaming, fighting, drinking, eating, and blaming, and starting that segment again the next day. Years and years of abuse towards my inner-self, there is no wonder that I am still searching.

I am gently approaching little Lynda with a kind reminder that there is more than contentment to life. I know because I purchased a hula-hoop and became savage in the movement and laughter for days.  But to be fully well with me, I have to trust that there is a possibility of wholeness via emotional, spiritual, and physical.

I do not want to live life with self-improving and not having the ability to laugh and enjoy myself when I am by myself. Often, laughter comes in reading, listening to music, and more so with the awareness that I am not alone but that others can identify, and we laugh at ourselves with each other—but never to put anyone else down, so the expense of that laughter comes only at me.

My higher power is the most extraordinary energy and knows that I can be cynical, so it must have a sense of humor. My constant reminder is gentleness for myself and others—and for that reason, I will continue to laugh at myself.

Peace and love. Feel free to share and invite others. To unsubscribe, say so. The reading is attached.

Author, Lynda M.

Daily Reflection “I’m Not Different”

A restless night was cause for a tremendous struggle with the icy pavement this morning because my mind battled so hard I couldn’t sleep. So, I got up around 3 a.m. to write and capture specific thoughts. After an hour of therapy session today, I cringed with hearing the therapist’s theory my lack of acceptance to all of Lynda.

Here is a pondering thought. Lack of self-acknowledgment can be a self-inflictive impediment.

When I listen to other people’s stories, I can identify and know that I am not different. Yet, I cannot ignore many ways that I am different, such as skin color, upbringing, disparities within my culture, and so many other things.

Nonetheless, I accept no differences in my addictions than others because I pay attention and want to hear other people’s stories. The journeys might sway, but the results are the same. One drink or drug is too many, and a thousand is never enough.  If I can remember this, I won’t have an excuse to isolate myself to separate and feel unique. Because if I convince myself that I am dissimilar, then that is a dangerous place for slipping. I choose to take responsibility for myself and know that my dis-ease wants to keep me isolated to feel that I don’t deserve the life I have today, which is one of recovery.

For example, today, I was in a meeting that is not exclusive for A.A. They provided statistics on the percentage of people who stay in the A.A. recovery and how many go back out. I cannot worry about what others do because I know that nothing has worked other than what I am doing today, and that’s good enough for me to continue to work on my plans.

I want to continue living my best life, so I want to surround myself with others in recovery fellowships—trying to save our lives. For that reason, I am not separate—I will continue to purge to be on a clear path, so I am grateful for the connections.

Peace and love. Feel free to share and invite others. To unsubscribe, say so. The reading is attached.

Author, Lynda M.

Daily Reflection “Our Paths Are Our Own”

I miss coffee dates and birthday lunches with friends, so I have had to get creative in my activities, like writing an action pack segment for my book that’s so juicy, impactful, and scary, yet pukka nonfiction.

Here is a thought. Recovery happens when fear is faced frontally.

My journey has been that of trial and error, mixed with some daring moves, music stomped by Chris Classic “Coretta,” horned in with Nina Simone, “Do I Move You,” wedged between some lighthearted “Godspeed,” by James Blake.  

The reading claims our paths are our own; not anyone will debate that. My sobriety journey is deliciously served on a smorgasbord of platters, allowing me choices to choose. What I mean is before putting down the mood-altering substances, I had few options, and when I did choose, I seldom followed through.

At the beginning of this journey, I could not listen to music. Mainly, I couldn’t listen to any music that would trigger thoughts of an old love, like alcohol. I had to avoid playgrounds and playmates that constantly sent enticing invitations. I had to stay grounded in the meetings, even when I didn’t like anyone in the rooms, including myself.

Each day by remaining abstinent from all my drugs of choice, things have remained the same, but I have changed. Today, I look forward to attending meetings. I plan to attend tonight in Boston. Yesterday I was in the UK. This afternoon I attempted Montreal, but the password was incorrect. Monday nights, I attend IG Live, Piano, and Prayer with Jonathan Singletary. Oh my goodness, my list seems wild, and it is, and I love it and don’t want to trade it for anything less.

The Duende of it all is my willingness to show up for me and allow the spirit to move me with dignity and integrity. And that’s hard for a girl that still likes to flirt around with flames. So, continually, I ask for help from my higher power to take my will and my life, guide me in my recovery and show me how to live sober daily.

My mind and body were deteriorating rapidly. By chance, I wanted help. I intuitively knew I had to make changes. I was willing to take a few suggestions, although sometimes grudgingly, I implemented, and I continue to change.

The fortitude I have for life today is not of my inclination, but that of a power so great that I am willing to allow that instinct to point me, and I have to be willing to take the direction. Each day, I take hold and have been positioning my move ever since—what a life to live lighthearted and carefree, knowing that all will be well.

Peace and love. Feel free to share and invite others. To unsubscribe, say so. The reading is attached.

Author, Lynda M.