It says on Page 83 of the Alcoholics Anonymous Big Book that “The spiritual life is not a theory. We have to live it.” For those lucky enough to be in long term recovery this concept is a no brainer regardless of whatever traditional religious background you might have been born into or have adopted as an adult. Our job is to stay still and open ourselves to the universe in faith that our experiences will at the end of the day be a gift to us. Kind of like turning lemons into lemonade, I call that belief Divine unfoldment. For those recovering members who entered recovery as agnostics or even (God forbid!) as atheists, we can now see in them some inner peace connected to a faith of their understanding. They can chuckle now retrospectively when they reminisce about all the reasons they originally believed that this often misunderstood God/Faith/Spiritual/Religious program wasn’t for them. I must admit, it is fun to have watched these transformations in real time and with real people.
One of my female clients wrote an ode to her inner child, a living breathing testimony of who she was then and who she is now, knowing full well that her journey to whole hearted living is not done. There is always more growth potential to try to tap into. There just isn’t an upper limit to human functioning.
So as winter is now gone and spring has sprung we watch with ever delight and with expanding enthusiasm to see the Divine unfold. Stay still long enough to smell the flowers and to be in awe of a sunrise or sunset. This spiritual life is not a theory. We get a chance to inhale it every day. Happy spring!
April 9, 2015
She lived a life as best she could Always wanting to be understood What she didn’t know And couldn’t show Is how much it hurt her to be good
She went through life with a smile Always going the extra mile But deep inside Where she could have cried Her true self got lost in the pile
She allowed her son to eat dirt She allowed her son to be hurt With a heavy heart Acknowledging her part Defending her son she no longer skirts
She allowed others to take the blame So they wouldn’t see her hidden shame She lived in her book Refusing to look At how her inattention was starting to maim
Who she was she did not know Who she was she could not show If you saw inside She would have died When you left her to go
She tried to read your mind To see what you wanted to find When you took a look At her life’s book She held up a mirror to make you blind
For you to see Who she was meant to be The person inside She would have died So she hid from even me