The risk of spirituality

I came across a phrase today: "The will of God will never take you where the grace of God cannot keep you."

Substitute Higher Power, The Universe, Love Intelligence, or whatever else you call the power in your life that's greater than you, if indeed you have such a thing. (If not, click here.)

I Googled the phrase, and found this poem, attributed to Anonymous:

The will of God will never take you,
Where the grace of God cannot keep you.
Where the arms of God cannot support you,
Where the riches of God cannot supply your needs,
Where the power of God cannot endow you.

The will of God will never take you,
Where the spirit of God cannot work through you,
Where the wisdom of God cannot teach you,
Where the army of God cannot protect you,
Where the hands of God cannot mold you.

The will of God will never take you,
Where the love of God cannot enfold you,
Where the mercies of God cannot sustain you,
Where the peace of God cannot calm your fears,
Where the authority of God cannot overrule for you.

The will of God will never take you,
Where the comfort of God cannot dry your tears,
Where the Word of God cannot feed you,
Where the miracles of God cannot be done for you,
Where the omnipresence of God cannot find you.

What I appreciate about this poem is that it suggests that even from the worst of situations and during the darkest of times, I need not despair.

During my darkest times, faith (inherently risky in that it requires believing without evidence) has been my biggest opportunity.

When I believe without evidence that all difficulties and challenges in my path are there to benefit me, anger, disappointment and despair can fall away.

When I believe without evidence that I will ultimately get what I need, in fact, that I already have exactly what I need to be happy and to progress as a human being, then forcing, struggling, resisting and hopelessness become unnecessary options.

After hanging on to skepticism for as long as my rational mind would permit, I've come to the conclusion that Faith is not a crutch, it's a shortcut. A shortcut to the surrender that results in peace and serenity.

All that's required is believing without evidence that there is a higher purpose for everything.

What if that's not true?

I don't care. Because from that perspective, my experience of life is better.

Five years later

I noted a couple days ago that the anniversary of one of the most traumatic days of my life passed unmarked and unnoticed.

That's healing. And for that I am so grateful.

Expectation, Reality, and how do you re-establish trust?

A common question early in this journey, and one that continues to come up, is how do you re-establish trust?

That was the discussion topic in my S-Anon meeting this week.

The consensus in the room, expressed in many different ways, seemed to be that one's notion of trust is forever changed by betrayal this deep. "Those of us in this room no longer have that dream, that fantasy, of completely trusting."

The answers that did come...

"I'm learning how to trust myself."

"I trust the process."

"I trust my Higher Power."

Nobody said, "I trust my qualifier exactly as much as I did before."

The point being, for me, that the amount of trust I'd placed in Husband before was not appropriate.

It's not reality-based thinking to expect that humans will be perfect at anything. 

Humans are flawed by definition.

A healthy adult is prepared to maintain wholeness, and to take appropriate action for self-preservation, in any event. Betrayal by loved ones included. A healthy adult does not give away that power to another.

One can have expectations that "my [fill-in-the-blank] would never lie to me." But if one isn't prepared to maintain wholeness and take actions for self-preservation were that lie to happen, one might find oneself in a bad (painful, traumatic, apocalyptic, etc) position.

Being human, and therefore not perfect, we all find ourselves unprepared at times. That's an opportunity to grow.

Another point that came up is that it's appropriate, given past events, to expect that someone who has lied to you must re-gain your trust over time. They must earn your trust. That's appropriate. They don't have your trust because they've shown they don't deserve your trust.  That's appropriate.

Expecting you to trust them on their timetable instead of your own because it makes them feel bad to be considered untrustworthy...well, that's...how shall I say it...how about this? That's a natural consequence of their actions and not for you to control. (I started to say "that's just TOO BAD!" but decided that was less helpful.)

Right now, the natural consequence of Husbands recent lies is that I've pulled away. "What do you expect?" I asked him. I recently realized that not responding according to his expectations doesn't necessarily mean I'm unreasonable or passive aggressive or unwilling to forgive. It just means that my response and his expectation were different. Period. Anything else is just meaning that he or I have added.

(Can we just redefine expectation to mean a fantasy about the future? That would be so helpful.)

What causes fear (for both of us I think) is when expectations aren't met, because that introduces the unknown.

As creatures programmed for survival, nothing is worse, nothing is less tolerable for human beings, than the unknown. I suspect that developing that capacity is the reason I'm here.

Daily practice is important for me

I've been a fog of depression and indecisiveness for the past week. I think I've been re-traumatized by re-experiencing betrayal. But it dawned on me today that this fog could probably have been avoided if I had not stopped going to Anon meetings. 

Come to think of it, if I'd been going to meetings, I probably wouldn't have accepted Husbands lies, or neglected to speak up when I thought something was off.

Things were feeling on such an even keel that I was trying to spend more time with Son, and to focus more on work, so I let meetings slide. Not because I felt finished or "cured" but because it just seemed like a good idea to do other important things, too.

But since I've not been maintaining any daily spiritual or recovery practices, I'm now ill-prepared for weathering this current situation. I'm lacking the clarity that daily practices provide. I don't know if it's because I didn't go up going to church, or because I grew up with parents who both have issues with authority, but for some reason I think I'm resisting the need for daily spiritual and recovery practices. But now that I see the folly in this, these things can become part of my self-care, like exercise and eating healthily, like spending time with family and friends, like flossing and brushing.

The thing that comes to mind is that I'm afraid I won't have enough time for work. My priorities are all messed up. Work is important, because I need to help support our family. But it can't be the focus of my life, especially because I'm not satisfied in my job and I'm only getting paid for a part-time schedule right now.

I'm glad to be back to writing because it's helping me sort our some important things.

Note to self: GO TO MEETINGS!

Hard things settling in

Warning: This is just stream of consciousness, so don't read further if you have little tolerance for disorganized thoughts and feelings.

It's been a week since I found out about Husband's most recent deceptions. Over that time it's begun to settle in that I need to take a look at where I really am in this journey. And that's been gradually more and more depressing as I realize how much is called into question.

Today I've been feeling a big sense of loss, some regret, and a good amount of anxiety and fear. I was at the bookstore this morning and saw a former classmate who went on to have a successful career as a studio executive in the entertainment industry. She was there with a handsome, fit man and two girls - her family I assume. Since I've know her she has launched her career, risen to the top, and then retired to be with her family. I hid from her. I couldn't bear to face her because I didn't know what I could say about my life. "Hi, I've accomplished little professionally, I'm unhappy in my current job, I'm married to an addict, I've just found out for the 3rd time that he's lying to me, we have no savings for the future, our house is under water, we live paycheck to paycheck. How are you?"

I feel so pathetic right now, it's hard to think straight. Part of me asks how I could possibly have ended up here, and the other part of me knows my life is mostly nothing more or less than the result of choices I've made. Most of the time I'm happy with our modest lifestyle because I've felt like I had the important things in life: family, friends, love, companionship, a solid relationship. But with the loss of the progress I thought Husband and I were making in our relationship I don't feel like I have anything. The only positive thing I can point to is my wonderful son, but I don't consider him a personal accomplishment.

Maybe I need to start doing gratitude lists so I can get re-connected with the wonderful things I do have in my life: Family who love me and would always be there for me, girlfriends who are like sisters who love me, a wonderful son who loves and appreciates me. I have my health. I have a job. I have a car. I have health insurance. It's only when I compare myself to others, or to where I think I should be that I feel the pain of failure. And that's a big pain. I'm beginning to fear that I've wasted my life. As I search for jobs and feel the ageism creeping in, I'm beginning to understand that doors are closing for me, whether or not that's right or fair.

My anon program recommends that we let self-seeking slip away and look for where we can be of service. Maybe that's my best next step. Where can I be of service today? How can I take who I am and the things I have to offer and be of service to others? I've never known the answer to that, but now the question is much more pressing. I feel like my options are to figure that our or to give up. And I really don't want to give up. But today I feel so heavy and tired, and the way forward looks fraught with obstacles, and I feel like the clock is ticking on life which means there's so much at stake. I feel like there's no room for error and that paralyzes me.

Action. I have to take action. Move in a direction, any direction, because movement is better than no movement. I think my absolutism is heightened when I feel insecure. But if I make list of actions and just take them, something will happen. And then I can take other actions based on the result. It can be that simple if I just stop thinking about it.

Talking, listening, and opportunity

I decided not to give weight to much of my conversation with Husband Thursday night. I'm not at my best when I'm drunk, so I chose to give him the benefit of the doubt. Friday morning he apologized for walking out on our conversation, and for the things he said. As I suspected, throwing in the towel was just a drunken gesture.

So we have work to do.

We both lost our wedding rings this year. He on a balmy September day at the beach, me a couple months later. I don't know where. I'd been thinking about what a new ring might symbolize for me, and I'd decided that instead of "forever" the circle would be an "O" and represent opportunity. Because our relationship is that for both of us - an opportunity to confront the deeper things we need to grow and develop as human beings. As long as we can maintain a healthy environment in which we're both working and progressing, I'm willing.

We went out tonight and had some good conversation. Mostly I talked, actually, and he listened. I talked about how much his lying hurts me, presses on the places where I'm tender - where my feelings of unworthiness reside. I told him that I hoped he'd try to get to the roots of the things it seems his addictions are servicing - his fear of being left, his resentments for being undervalued and unacknowledged, the entitlement that arises out of that, and his fear of inciting my anger. I'm an absolutist, but I'm not an angry, irrational person. His mother is. I'm not her, but I'm paying the price for their relationship and I'm not willing to stay in that role. I told him that, too.

I acknowledged some of my own issues that contribute to our dynamic: My absolutism, my deep seated feeling that I must never need a man so  I won't be vulnerable to dependency, and my need to make sure men I'm in relationships know that I'm not dependent on them. Of course they fit neatly into his issues. I guess we really do seek out that which we need to learn. 

He went to his first AA meeting today, and wasn't surprised to find he was in the right place. He told me he'd always avoided going to AA because he wasn't an alcoholic, and didn't want to give up drinking. But he said that recently all the problems we've been having - the lies he's told - have revolved around his drinking. He talked about how he'd stopped having boundaries around work, and let his practices and meeting attendance slip because of it. He's going to return to regular spiritual practices, regular meetings, and to regular exercise as well - the things he needs to do to take care of himself.

Addicts slip. We all do. But he's willing to own up to his mistakes, willing to take responsibility for his actions, for his well-being, and for his part in building a healthy relationship. He's willing, as I am, to choose to move toward his challenges instead of running and avoiding.

So things are better. I don't feel so lost. In fact, because I am more grounded in my own self now and less reactive, I feel stronger and more peaceful.

There is still work to be done, for sure. The difference now is I've learned that I'm up to the task.

Emotional intimacy after betrayal

Maybe I'm no longer capable of being vulnerable enough to have a deep, emotional bond with Husband.

I've often said that deep trust is critical to deep love. But as I've been thinking about it, I realized that it's very common to deeply love people we know we can't trust. You can love deeply without attachment, without expectation, without an agenda, with an appreciation for all that someone is and is not.

So maybe the more correct theorem is that a deep emotional partnership requires deep trust.

I'd like to have that again with Husband, but a question remains before me like badly worn carpet: How do I open up to him without relying on trusting him?

My intellect replies that I need to trust myself to take care of my well-being, come what may. And I guess that's what I've done. I've sought help and support, learned about and drawn boundaries, taken responsibility for things that are within my control, tried hard to stay out of things that aren't mine to address, wrangled new tools. But all after the fact. After the searing, soul-shattering pain of being deeply betrayed by someone I thought I knew intimately and trusted absolutely.

So, if I must be honest, what I'm really searching for here is a way to avoid ever feeling that pain again.

Therein lies the shit. (Not the good kind.) Because to avoid pain is to avoid living. I know that, based on the life I have.

Everything is a balance between life and death, if I think about it, because if you're not living you're essentially dying. So one is choosing (if only by not choosing) life or death in every moment.

Do I take this moment and live, or do I let myself die a tiny death? And how many tiny deaths does it take to make a wasted life?

I don't want a marriage where there's no emotional intimacy, no attachment, no expectation. I don't want a marriage of loving detachment. That would be fine for many other types of relationships - friends, other family members, even a child, who is supposed to move away and become separate. But I don't what that with the person I'm drawing into my life to be my significant partner. I want attachment to deepen, and expectation to arise out of shared values, experiences and desires.

So many words that sentence us to suffering: attachment, expectation, desire.

But being attached and having expectations means living in denial of some things I've come to believe (all things change, the only thing predictable is that life is unpredictable, as adults we are solely responsible for our experience of life, the actions of others are completely beyond my control.)

How do I resolve those things?

Perhaps there is no need to resolve anything, and my longing for resolution is another manifestation of my inescapable absolutism, simultaneously blinding and crafty.

Perhaps faith is the only answer to me. Turn it over. Trust that my Higher Power is bridging a gap, doing for me what I cannot do for myself. Trust that I have everything I really need, and that everything before me, including Husband, is an opportunity.  Easy to forget when fear seeps into the cracks of life.  I need a structure that will help me remember.

Maybe my relationship with Husband is like a gym membership, and if I just get my ass up and go work out every day the results will be forthcoming.

We're all hurtling toward death anyway. What's it gonna do - kill me?

The difference between "letting go" and "giving up"

A little light bulb went on for me tonight in my 12-step meeting. Not something completely new, but something that finally clicked.

When I was younger, my mother often counseled me to "let it go." She was typically referring to feelings of anger or upset. "You don't gain anything by being angry. Just let it go."

It seemed reasonable, seemed to make sense, seemed to be something a nice, understanding person would do.

And as a child growing up in an authoritarian household it was her only option.

But it didn't ever feel right. If you're violated, how do you simply "let it go?" Isn't that just denial? Isn't that just stuffing it down, taking it, being a door mat?

Turning the other cheek never felt right to me inside. It felt like giving up, giving in, shortchanging myself. And it never felt honest. And it was never really gone.

So tonight when we were talking about "let go and let God," that phrase was snagging me.

But then our speaker phrased the question in a way that landed in my gut.

"How do you let go and let God? How do you take an appropriate action without being attached to the result?"

Clouds parted! That's right! That's the difference!!

What was missing from my mother's advice was the part about taking an appropriate action.

When someone is an asshole, the healthy way to let go is not to deny or oppress your feelings or response; it is to TAKE AN APPROPRIATE ACTION and then turn it over to your higher power (in other words, not be attached to the result.)

That is not giving up.

That is standing up for yourself, taking care of yourself, without being attached to a certain outcome (in other words, not expecting someone to change because you're pissed off, or validate your perspective - which they may not) and being willing to do it again as necessary until you feel heard and complete.

Letting go in the denial sense leaves me feeling angry, resentful and unresolved.

Letting go in a healthy way leaves me feeling empowered and peaceful.

Ahhhh.