Step Three finale

How do you turn it over?

My standard answer and understanding is that I turn it over by working the steps.  If I live and abide by them, continuing to do a better job with that as time goes by, I will be turning my will and my life over to a higher power.  This higher power can be, for me, simply a better way of living.  Contributing and not taking.  Making people’s lives better because I’m here.  Being a better wife, mother, worker, citizen.  The way of my past, when I was drinking, was to take, sadden, and endanger people.  I had potential and resources but I rendered myself incapable of even caring for myself by drinking.

I have many tools that AA has given me and taught me how to use.  I can meet situations with gratitude and humility.  I can ask for help.  I can help others.  My mind and body work today because I’m not poisoning them with alcohol.  I have an infinite number of people who are walking this path with me and who will help me walk it when I participate in AA with them.

Drinking isn’t an issue for me today (though I always hold close the possibility that it is lurking there, waiting to kill me still).  Today I’d like to eat fat and sugar, retire early, stay home most of the time and play with Sims.  And smoke cigarettes.

Instead.  I wrote a postcard to my state representative (his turn, I’m sure he’s thrilled).  Took a walk for exercise.  Ate broccoli because I should.  Cared for my pets.  Read a book.  This week I’ll go to work, help with the congressional campaign, get ready to visit my daughter, see my son, pay bills and give some money to the fair district campaign in my state (my congressional district is shaped like John Lennon standing on his head eating an oatmeal cookie), attend my meeting, take the garbage out, answer the phone (cell phone only, not landline).  I’ll turn it over, and we’ll all be better for that.

August 20, 2017 (this day)


What a difference a year makes.  My pictures from this time last year are painful to visit. But not a pictures of this little guy.  He’s basically the same as a year ago, the benefit of being young.  He’s named after a prominent member of AA’s past, by the way, Ebby.  The cat is basically the same.  The dog, my wife and I might be a bit worse for the wear of a year gone by, all being farther along in our expected lifetimes than he is.

I look at pictures from last year and I remember that I was working a bit on Hillary’s campaign.  The election was looming.  We’ve done more than just get older in a year, for sure.

This year I’m working harder on a different campaign, one for congress.  It amazes me how many people don’t know who their congressperson is.  That’s the person who sits on the other side from the senators when the whole gang gets together, and votes on your behalf about issues large and small.

I’m still letting my elected officials know what I think, one a day, each in turn.  Helping with the congressional campaign takes a little time right now, not much.  I honestly struggle to apply the concept of emotional sobriety to this endeavor.  Did I truly learn anything from last year’s experience?  I’ve gone in deeper.  Is that the right thing?

I’m also still facing the imminent decline and death of the precious pooch.  She’s holding her own today, though getting her to take a pill on an empty stomach is a process fraught with emotion and ending in failure every day.

Writing this makes me wonder what next month will bring, both with politics and with the pooch.