Round 3, Day 19: Listening to you, listening to me.

Well, I have written before about listening, but if you write you may find that the same themes come back over and over, and this is a big one for me. This week I have been thinking a lot about two kinds of listening that I guess complement each other: listening to others, and listening to myself.

Listening to others is, in one sense, a challenge for me. I resist a lot of recovery wisdom, in part because it's sometimes presented in language that makes things sound more straightforward than makes sense to me. I am both blessed and cursed with seeing many issues from multiple perspectives, and I try not to resolve things too tightly into one perspective as I think it will simply leave out too much, or will stop ringing true for me. But I know that people who have been through major changes know something that can help me, and when they are generous enough to offer their experience, I need to find a way to take that up in a way that's helpful. Not much else to say about that, except I'm trying, and please be patient with me!

On the other hand, over the past few months, before my recent return to being sober, I feel like I lost my ability to listen to myself. Now, some of that isn't all that surprising. I was a bit busier than is good for me with school, just because it all crept up on me (I have decreased some of that now), and then my partner's accident earlier in the summer (he's doing well now) resulted in me not having very much free time for a couple of months. I am used to having a reasonable amount of time to myself, and it's one of the ways I keep myself on track. (I used to suffer severe depressions and now mostly I don't, so keeping myself on track is worth the time and effort it takes. It might sound like a luxury, but it's pretty basic survival for me.)

Anyway. One of the things I think I have lost my way in is my academic work. I don't write a lot about that here, for a whole lot of reasons, but I'm going to talk a little bit about it now because I think it's central to this listening thing.  In many ways, I'm not sure about the academic world. In some ways it's very good--I like my thesis project, and I think it's definitely worth doing. And of course it's a privilege to be doing it at all. I get that. But I don't run into a lot of people who have set up their lives in ways that bring them balance and meaning, and that's been gnawing at me. The other day, I had lunch with two people who are quite senior to me, and who in many ways I admire. But their lives seem rigid, somehow. Maybe that's not it, rigid. Maybe what I want to say is that their lives seem so  compartmentalized, and I don't think I can live like that. I can't spend most of my time doing what needs to be done in the hopes of scraping out a little time to do work that matters to me. Now, maybe I don't have to. But I feel like I need a role model, and I don't have one. Part of the problem may be that the department I am working might not be the best fit for me. But if it isn't, I have to find a place that is, and then make enormous changes, and it's hard to know where to start. I just don't always know how to connect to the sources of meaning that I need to keep connected to in order to keep myself going, and I'm not sure whether that's a personal problem or an institutional problem, or whether it's a matter of me just not fitting where I am. But I wrote about not feeling like I fit anywhere, so it seems a bit rich to think that I am going to be able to feel that in school. And yet, if I can't, I'm not sure I can do what it takes to keep me in it for the long haul. It's not the hard work that I mind (though sometimes I do, of course!) It's more the fear of being swallowed up by the academic machine and not being able to hear what's left of my own voice. That scares me.

I really don't know if that makes sense to anyone. Maybe I sound like I am whinging. But I know that I have some major doubts about what I am doing, and these doubts are not unconnected to the drinking. So I'm trying to look them square in the face and say, "Hello doubt. What's up with you these days?" rather than racing past them in the hopes that they disappear. And I'm not expecting any great answers from myself on this, or at least not yet. I'm just admitting that I have big questions. And they are painful.

On the not drinking front, things have been actually pretty darned easy. My "not drinking" habits were well-established after 16 months sober, and I feel like I have reverted to them with a certain ease. I've felt low, and I've felt altogether just too much, that's for sure. But I haven't felt like drinking. (Well, except once, fleetingly, at a particularly festive recent dinner party, but I was still getting over the flu then and I really didn't want to feel any worse than I already did. Still, since drinking while ill was never a problem when I was drinking, I'm pleased that even that one evening, the temptation was only slight.) No, for me, I am starting to realize that the problem isn't being overcome with craving. Not anymore. The problem is more trying to figure out how to live so that I stay connected to my sources of meaning. If I lose them, and things start to seem pointless, that's when drinking starts to look appealing. As in, if it's all pointless anyway, why not just drink? I don't think it's all pointless. But I do feel like that at times. Working on that is what I need to do, and what I'm writing about.

Thanks for reading, if you made it through all that! It's nice to have some company while I face down these doubts. Wishing you peace, and joy, and maybe even a little fall sunshine.

Hello, doubt. So nice to see you again, my old friend. Can I get you a cookie?

Yesterday was somewhat grisly for me. I felt tired and weepy and cranky, a big knot of yuck. I rode my bike, went to class, picked up what I needed from the library, met a couple of friends for a walk and a chat--all things that would usually make for a great day. Still, by the time I came home, I felt like giving up on everything. School, the not-drinking routine, anything I have usually thought of as good just seemed bad. I tried explaining it all to my partner, which ended up with me in a convoluted quagmire of doubt and despair. He held my hand and talked with me for an hour, after which I realized I could cope, though I still wasn't sure what exactly I was coping with. Then I tried to stand up and could barely do it, and I realized I had a headache and a fever and was exhausted. So I had been getting the flu, and I guess that wasn't exactly lifting my damp spirits any.

The malaise is kind of interesting, though. For me, quitting drinking means taking care of myself, and taking care of myself means questioning what I'm doing, asking whether it's really what's good for me or if it's just what I'm doing. That's fine, but too much questioning is paralyzing, and that's just as much of a time suck as drinking too much. No I'm not preparing an elaborate excuse to pick up drinking again. I'm really not doing that, at least for this stretch of time I've set myself. I'm just noticing a pattern, and I think it's down to that old chestnut, the black and white thinking. For me, it's been relatively easy to drink too much in the evenings and then barrel through the days. Yes, I had spells when I felt like living crap, and at times I was pretty darn anxious. But booze really is a helpful way of not thinking about your whole life if what you really want to to is put your head down and just get through things. Now that I don't have that, doubts lead to questions and questions lead to existential paralysis, and really I do have a whole lot to get done in the next few months.

I guess what I'll have to do is learn to balance attending to the doubt with setting it aside. Thich Nhat Hanh has a lovely passage in one of his books, probably Peace is Every Step, where he talks about cultivating patience with anxiety. I just looked through the book to find the passage, and I can't, so maybe it'd in a different book after all. No matter, his sensibility infuses all his books, and I can remember it enough without an exact quote. He recommends, when you start to feel anxious, saying, "Hello, anxiety. Welcome." Sometimes you can sit with the anxiety and pay attention to it. But of you can't because you have to do other things, he says to welcome the anxiety, ask it to sit for you until you are ready, and then carry on with what you are doing until you can be more attentive. I have done this on and off for years, and I find it remarkably helpful. (Sometimes I get carried away, and I offer it a cookie and a comfy chair, and then I start to wonder why I am being so nice to my anxiety when I have to get on with things rather than sit in a comfy chair eating a cookie. But that's just a distraction, a little sibling rivalry with my old friend anxiety, and it passes.)

Anyway. I realize this is a helpful practice, and I need to do the same thing with other uncomfortable, disruptive emotions. I need to be hospitable, offer a them warm welcome, whatever they are. But I don't need to put down what I'm doing and engage in a marathon wrestling match with that emotion. No need to spend days and days in the grip of doubt, examining every aspect of my life thats uncertain. Some things are uncertain, and they will stay that way for a while at least. I'm not always sure about school, but I like a lot of it, and I have to finish writing a thesis, which takes time and concentration. I'm not sure about my plan once that's done, but I have sent my application and now there's little point thinking anything through unless I have a concrete offer to evaluate. I probably won't be able to keep working the same job a whole lot longer, as I know I find it too draining, but I don't have to solve that today, and deciding about that will likely be taken care of once I figure out what I'm doing with school next year. I am happy with my partner, my apartment, my city, and a whole lot of things about my life. I know deciding to quit drinking is a good decision for me, even though I'm not sure about it all the time. I'm not sure what to make of this whole discipline of psychology that I'm studying, and I won't be able to figure out my role in it any time soon. OK, that's some certainty, and a lot of doubt. So when the doubt comes, as it has this week, I am trying to take Thich Nhat Hanh's advice, and say, hello doubt. Welcome back. No time for wrestling now, I'm busy, but I promise I'll go for a walk with you later. First I have to do some schoolwork. And then, having settled my friend doubt comfortably in my favourite chair, maybe even with a cookie in her hand to keep her occupied, I can get back to work. Because paying attention to emotions doesn't mean letting them run the show all the time. Sometimes, you just have to get things done.

That's what I'm trying, anyway. I've been sleeping lots and taking slow walks every day, trying to keep myself calm in the face of this. I suppose I do need to get back to doing real meditation practice. But for now, I'll set the doubt aside, have some hot tea and get back to work.

If you're still reading, many thanks. Peace and joy to you. And a cookie for your own fears and doubts.

T