M. Nole's Dream List

At the end of my therapy group this week, one member advised a member struggling with codependency to write a Dream List if she's tempted to e-mail or text the toxic man with whom she's involved.

I decided to write out my own list, and I thought it would be hard to come up with a neat and tidy list of even 10 dreams. I started writing, and within 3 minutes, I had gone past the number 30. I will be adding to this, but here is the beginning of M. Nole's offical Dream list.

1. Score well on the LSAT and be accepted into law school
2. Become a very good, ethical lawyer who helps people
3. Write a nonfiction Christian book
4. Get off of all pain medicine and be completely into AA again
5. Be active in Al-Anon again
6. Write a Christian novel
7. Have a popular spiritual blog
8. Devote myself to special Catholic prayers and especially to the Virgin Mary
9. Evolve into a saint
10. Make a pilgrimage to Lourdes or Rome
11. Be someone who does kind, spontaneous things for others
12. Make a charitable gift to honor someone special every month
13. Write a fiction novel
14. Create Catholic folk art
15. Learn to make rosaries
16. Join a good Protestant Bible study class
17. Go to Daily Mass
18. Have true contrition for all of my sins
19. Have my daughters when they become adults) feel like I was the best mother in the world
20. Be involved in a ministry (presently working for a ministry does not count)
21. Belong to a book club
22. Subscribe to an audio book service and listen to new books every month
23. Become a Facebook addict and play with my BFFs
24. Open a Christian art store in Midtown
25. Become a positive thinker
26. Become a humanitarian
27. Give generously to my church
28. Use my gift for spiritual writing to change lives, or even better, to save a life or a soul
29. Expand my for-profit resume business
30. Expand my resume ministry (free resumes to single parents and low-income clients)
31. Be on the board of a charity
32. Make enough money for my children to go to college wherever they can be accepted
33. Look like a million bucks well into my 40s and 50s
34. Lead others to the Catholic Church or to a belief in Jesus Christ
35. Infuse hope into other people with my ability to write fearlessly about my emotional and spiritual struggles
36. Resume my service work of intercessory prayer and pray for someone else's needs every single day
37. Realize when I'm 65 years old that I have lived a full, full life
38. Have every one of my friends to feel that I am the most faithful, supportive friend they have - because it's true
39. Make enough money to get manicures
40. Live in a small but adorable house
41. Take more creative writing classes
42. Write a screenplay for a movie about John Calipari

Things I'll Do If I Get My Old Body Back

1. Write a book. I won't be such a perfectionist, and I won't write it for anyone but me. But I'll finally write it - something I've been planning on doing for 25 years.

2. Throw away clutter with glee. 3 months ago this would have been a chore. Now it's something that aggravates my neck. I long to do it, but I either can't or know that I will have rebound pain. An odious task has become a privilege.

3. Journal even more than I had been doing. The pen in my hand was like an ignition that took me to God. I will journal every 30 minutes if I want to and won't feel guilty.

4. Put a sound system in my car and take joy rides.

5. Invite more of my children's friends over and not obsess so much about whether the house is clean enough. I can truly understand "good enough" now.

6. Use the public library more and read all of the time. There is so much good writing out there that I can't take advantage of now.

7. Go to 4-5 Twelve Step meetings a week. I already knew I loved them. The hole I've been feeling is painful.

8. Go to church. I love my relgion but have never really enjoyed hour-long services. Still, that's another piece of me that's gone right now.

9. Write freelance articles. It never hurts to try.

10. Buy healthier groceries. My dear husband is buying me groceries that cause me to gain weight. I never thought I would miss going to the grocery store.

11. Fold laundry lickety-split and get it out of my hair. Why did I procrastinate about this? Why did I let it pile up when I wasn't in pain? I don't understand this. I would love to tackle laundry right now if it didn't hurt.

12. Be grateful every day if I don't hurt.

13. Enjoy my children more. I loved them, but was I enjoying them? I didn't realize how many options a healthy body gave me. If I hear, "Mommy's hurting today," one more time I feel like I'll scream.

14. Be a better listener. Talking so much about myself has helped me to realize how much I was already talking about myself. The small stuff really isn't worth talking about. I know that now.

15. Care about my husband's day. Right now I have to pretend I care. There was a time when I really could have cared because I wasn't disabled by pain. I don't know how much I can work on overcoming my self-absorption as I face a life-changing set of physical problems. But when things are returned to a state of normalcy, I am going to take a huge interest in his day-in and day-out experiences. I can't wait.

16. Laugh at myself more.

I write this knowing full well that if I'm healed, I won't do all of this. But this experience has changed my life forever. As a thirtysomething, I had been taking "feeling decent" for granted. I've done a 180 degree turn. I also write this knowing that some of it (such as getting out of my self-centeredness) can be tackled now. Baby steps.

Take away my pain and stiffness, Jesus. As you like, when you like, if you like. I've learned a lot; I know you can see that.

Silenced

I am not still not able to write on paper without triggering or aggravating pain in my neck, and although I can easily type, I try to save my computer-posture strength for my job. I have only been to one 12 step meeting in the past several weeks because of how hard it is to sit in chairs in a group for an hour.

So the ways in which I expressed my spiritual thoughts - journaling, blogging, talking at meetings - are missing from my life most of the time now.

I talk to God, to the saints. I feel like my echo bounces back to me. It always did, but hearing my own voice at meetings and writing about God helped to make our relationship real to me.

This part of the journey seems to be a place where I depend on God more heavily than I ever have but without the spiritual helps I've relied on for years. I hate it even though I believe that I'll learn something that will be valuable to someone else eventually. Even writing that hurt. I vacillate between feeling shock, anger and self-pity over my condition and feeling embarrassment that I think about myself like I have a "serious" ailment.

My neck stiffened up like an iron plate as I typed, as if to back up everything I've been trying to express. I have no voice right now, not without pain.

Not without pain.

Exposure

Yesterday I had one episode of intense pain and took a painkiller, but otherwise I felt free of them. I had volunteered to read part of my 2006 spiritual journal at my charity's staff Christmas party, and I was nervous all day long. There were two problems: one was that I had written sincerely, so it seemed like I would be letting my coworkers see into my soul. The other problem was that part of me knew that it would touch some people and strike them, and I worried that I wanted to read at the podium for myself and not for God.

Despite my anxiety, I did it. As a preamble to our lighting of the Peace Candle on our Advent Wreath, I read two 2006 journal entries in front of everyone I work with. These will be posted as a separate blog entry right above this one. I told the staff that Christmas Day 2006 was a day filled with tranquility and gratitude, but that as late as December 23rd 2006, I was stuck in self-centeredness and shallow thinking and thought it was my worst Christmas ever. The journal entries showed how God was able to lift me out of my gloom and tell me what a gift my Christmas really was.

People came up to me afterward and told me that they had been moved by what I read. I felt exposed and felt that I had to brush their comments away lest I be making myself too huge. As a few moments passed I started to become able to look people in the eye and thank them when they told me my words had struck to them. One of my friends said, "What you read to me meant so much to me, more than you can ever know - really."

I wondered if my boss would say anything about what I read, and late that afternoon she came into the office to give me my organization Christmas present in it's uniform gift bag. Then she whispered to me, "I loved your story."

"Thank you," I said quietly.

"Will you do some writing for us...please?"

I nodded. "Yes." (Right now I'm a secretary).

"We need anyone who can write as beautifully as you do to be writing for us."

I nodded and said yes again. How peculiar it is to me that in this job that I never wanted to go out and get that God has given me a voice to talk about his glory. How peculiar and marvelous. I love it when I can see God working like that.

Damage

A couple of years ago, I found my spiritual niche. I experimented in concentrated intercessory prayer for other people, and I nearly always saw beautiful things happen. When the outcome was good, I knew the gift had come from God. In the handful of times that I didn't see healing, rescue or deliverance, I began to understand that sometimes life on earth is so difficult that only a higher power could see a plan for ultimate good.

I have been so wrapped up in my neck problems that I've frequently forgotten to pray for others. Intercessory prayer has been so important to me that I couldn't believe I had let it slip out of my life. But last week, I was startled to receive a prayer shawl that had been prayed over and given to me so that I could wrap myself in God's loving care and then a letter in the mail that told me I had been chosen as a person that a prayer group would pray for throughout Advent. That's when I realized that intercessory prayer was still active in my life; I was just on the other side.

I have missed a lot of my normal life since these physical problems started after Halloween. I've missed being able to fold laundry, wash dishes or pick up toys as I saw the need. I've missed being able to read spiritual books and write in my spiritual notebooks by hand. I've missed being able to sort through papers without stopping after a few minutes due to neck pain. I've missed driving my car without pain. I've missed doing my own grocery shopping so that I can buy food that doesn't pack weight on me. I've missed sitting in church pews and the metal chairs in AA meetings without feeling my neck stiffen after a few minutes.

What I miss most about my normal life is knowing that I was on a spiritual journey and feeling like I was constantly growing. On an intellectual level I know that I'm still on my spiritual journey right now as I accept my powerlessness over my pain and my limitations. But do I feel it? No. Not really. I certainly didn't feel it all the time before my neck problems started, but I must have felt it a lot, because I miss it so much.

In October I felt like I was about to start working on something important. I was going to go to graduate school or start seriously writing a novel or begin some other challenging undertaking. Now I am flailing around just to make sure my children are clean and fed and that I show up to work no more than 20 minutes late.

I want my life back, I want my hopes back, I want my spirituality back. In several weeks, with a minor but debilitating physical problem, I've started to think of myself as an ailing person instead of a spiritual person. It embarrasses me to admit how much my neck condition has damaged me, but it's true.

I pray and wait for the day that I include these weeks in my spiritual history but that I have left the self-pity, the self-centeredness and sense of loss far behind me.

Reaching Into the Richness

I'm conscious of having a relationship with God again. This was helped by reading blog's like http://ragamuffindiva.blogspot.com/ and going to 12 step meetings 5 nights in a row. I also rebelled against my stiff neck and read recovery literature even though for weeks it's hurt to read. I left my (unwanted but necessary) universe of isolation and pain medicine and went back into Recovery Galaxy, where the more you want God, the more peaceful you seem to be. At least to others.

Unfortunately, I am not doing well physically at all. This week I had 4 days of widespread fiery pain across my upper back, shoulders and neck. This is the pain that forces tears from my eyes. For the past couple of days I've been having such strong muscle spasms at the base of my neck that I feel almost nauseated. I'm a mess. Reflecting back on times in the past month when I thought I was cured and started to grieve my pain pills makes me roll my eyes. Talk about putting the cart before the horse.

It's a quiet Sunday morning, and I've woken up in the Unknown. My daughter needs to be taken to church since she has her First Penance soon, but my muscle spasms are so strong (not painful, but disturbing and uncomfortable) that I can't imagine getting ready, driving and going. I need a haircut badly and have one scheduled but feel like I can barely drive there or move my head for my stylist as she cuts it. There's cleaning to do, but I feel like I need to lie down as much possible. There's the week of work ahead of me, which I don't know how I can survive since working a full week last week did me in. And then there are meetings, which come last after church and cleaning and work. How will I go to meetings again?

I'm powerless over my neck, and the world is full of obligations that I need a functioning neck to fulfill and helps that I need a functioning neck to take advantage of.

Help me, God. Your will be done, not mine. As I type this post I realize that in all of this time, I haven't prayed the rosary to ask for help with this. Once I started taking pain medicine, I felt so guilty that it was hard to pray at all. But as I said above, I know I have a relationship with God right now. He knows better than I do how hard it is for me to be in AA, have a pain pill prescription and try to decide day after day if my pain is at a 4 out of 10 or a 7 out of 10. He's the source of understanding and compassion that I can't reach the bottom of.

I see this morning that my alcoholic shame has kept me from turning to many spiritual aids that God has given me. I have the rosary, novenas, meditation, prayers to St. Ursicinus of Saint-Ursanne, the patron saint of neck stiffness (I just looked this up, of course). They call out to me now like a mother calling out for her lost child in the grocery store.

I woke up facing the unknown, but one thing I do know is that my shame is not going to prevent me from reaching into the richness of my faith to find grace.

When He Was Enough For Me

It is hard to believe that a few weeks ago I felt like I had a spiritual core. Right after Halloween, I developed reactive arthritis from a virus, and I have been on prescription pain medicine off and on since then. I have had chemically induced moments of such peace and optimism that I could not help but rely on painkillers to give me relief from fear and darkness. I do not remember what it was like when God was my Higher Power and when he was enough for me. It does not seem like a relationship with God can ever be enough again.

I know what to do: pray, go to meetings, talk to people and let go. I also know that the feelings I want to escape from – fear, loneliness, sadness and shame - will trouble me until I let them surface. There is one more thing that I know, and it is probably the hardest part to accept. I know that I cannot control when I will feel better. I can pray, I can live in the solution, I can surrender and I can even truly want God’s will. However, I will feel better when I am supposed to, and I have no idea how long it will take for that feeling to get here.

And at a time when I need to feel a spiritual connection the most, reading and journaling cause more neck strain than I can tolerate. So as I wait to become assured of God’s care again, I cannot use the tools that I have relied on so heavily in the past. I can’t read my Emmet Fox books. I can’t read a few paragraphs of my Norman Vincent Peale books. I can’t read the story of a miraculous healing in The Miracles of John Paul II. I can’t read the daily meditations in my Al-Anon books. I can’t write in my journal about the day’s struggles or anything that gave me hope.

I can’t, I can’t, I can’t. That is my reality for the moment. I can’t; this will never work. I said once in an AA meeting that if I miss meetings, not only does my disease lie to me about how harmless drinking is, but it also lies to me about how good God is.

And that is the only faith I have right now. Life seems empty and bleak, I feel like I am in the world all alone, and I cannot imagine ever feeling joy again because I know that God loves me. But a tiny part of me says that this is just my disease lying to me again, kicking me while I’m down.

I hope so.

Different Angles

I was in the grocery store last night and had to ask if my feelings were real. In the morning I had met a meek and pleasant man with Lou Gehrig’s disease who wants to start volunteering frequently for the charity I work for. I was saddened to know that he is terminally ill, and I admired him so much for wanting to use the time he has left to help others. That night, I saw him at a closed AA meeting and found out that he had recognized me as a member of the program when he had spoken with me at my job earlier in the day.

So now I have nice new friend, I am going to be seeing him a lot at work, we have a bond since we are both in AA and he has a progressive, fatal disease. As I left the meeting and felt more sadness come upon me, it was so strong that it felt like an assault.

I stopped by my church and prayed for him at Adoration. I prayed in front of the statues of Jesus and Mary in the sanctuary and asked them to please take care of him. I lit a candle for him and said more prayers. And in the grocery store, as I kept thinking of his tragedy while I was trying to shop, I wanted to cry out in pain.

Since I know so much about my chronic self-centeredness and my histrionics, I felt I had to examine myself. Was I making someone else’s sad story about myself? Was I using his situation to act dramatic? Was the attack of pain I was feeling real?

The answer was simple and silent. Yes, it was real. Earlier that day I had talked about people behind their backs. I had told a lie. I had been harsh with my 7 year old and out of anger had tried to hurt her with my words. For a lot of the day, I had been expressing my worst character defects. But the pain I felt for my new friend was real. My compassion was pure, without ulterior motives. I hurt for him.

I walked to my car in a strong wind, seeing lightning flash around me in the night sky. I felt anchored in the now, and I felt whole. In one day I had seen some of the worst I bring to God and to the world and also experienced the best I bring to God and to the world. Selfishness interspersed with concern outside of myself, meanness interspersed with love for my neighbor, ego interspersed with reliance on God. The wind seemed to come at me from multiple angles just as my emotions hit me at different angles. “This is who you are,” I thought, “This is who you really are.”

For where your treasure is...

Matthew 6:21 For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.


Over the past several years, I have cringed when I read this Bible verse. I have always come away from it condemning myself for loving money more than God and feeling guilty.

Today I was having a very hectic morning full of kid-induced drama (infected mosquito bites, lost book bags, lost saddle oxfords, lost ballet shoes, undone homework, etc.), and I started to run so late that my own pre-work routine fell apart. I was angry, and after an hour of muttering and stomping, I knew that my day was getting worse and worse.

I finished up gathering my things in the silent house (only silent because I was running so late that the rest of the family was gone), and I quieted myself inside and out. I decided that I was powerless over all of the trouble I had already had but that I could choose not to let it ruin my entire day. Then Matthew 6:21 came softly into my head. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. This time, I didn’t judge myself harshly with it. It came into my mind and showed me a positive truth about myself.

Do I want more money? Yes. Do I get jealous of people’s appearances and material possessions? Yes. But I was surprised this morning when I saw that my treasure is really my peace of mind and my reliance on God. That is what I seek, value and safeguard above all else. And that is where my heart is and where I direct my energy. When I pray today for God’s will to be done concerning my family’s finances, his will is truly what I want, no matter what that looks like.

God’s will is my treasure, my relationship with him is my treasure and there my heart is also. I am amazed to be typing this after how strongly I felt for years that God had abandoned me. I think that’s what Jesus wants for all of us…for us to be amazed by him.

Living in the Present...Maybe

I don’t think anyone would say that staying in the present is a bad thing as far as our emotional health goes. Jesus said to, twelve step groups say to, self-help authors say to. But when dark thoughts come, is it always helpful to try to stay in the present? For me the answer is no. There are situations where trying to stay in the present is very useful to me. If I’m feeling regretful about the past, if I’m angry with people for things I think they’re going to do in the future or if I’m feeling bitter because I long for more material things and don’t think I’ll end up getting them, then realizing that I’m dealing only with this single moment can quickly ease a lot of that discomfort.

There are other times, though, when I’m emotionally troubled and trying to stay in the present seems to aggravate the situation. I am filled with panic or dread about something that could happen in the future, and I try to make myself understand that I can only experience today. For example, I can be at peace because the medical claim isn’t being denied today… I can be at peace because my daughter has not been diagnosed with a disease today… I can be at peace because I can pay my bills today...It’s true and it makes sense, but the fear may be so awful that it keeps popping back into my mind. I’ll frantically keep trying to correct my thoughts. I’ll try to use will power to keep my mind focused on the present so that I will feel okay, but it doesn’t work.

And that’s where the problem lies. If I’m extremely worried about something of a grave nature, I am not okay. In that situation, I am a person filled with fear, and it’s not okay for me to feel like that. Bringing myself back to the present helps when I know better than to feed the thoughts I’m having, but what if I don’t know better? What if I knew I would die tomorrow? Could I be okay with it by focusing on this moment, feeling the keys clicking underneath my fingers, listening to the hum of the air conditioner and smelling roasted potatoes in the kitchen? I don’t think so. I think I would be filled with worry about the emotional and financial impact on my children, and I don’t think I could chase the feeling off by recognizing that it had not occurred yet.

I’m an intelligent person. If I can think my way out of distress, I probably will. If I can’t think my way out of it, it doesn’t mean that I need to try harder. It means that I’m having a harsh encounter with my makeup, my humanness. The only thing that can help me is to realize that I cannot help myself, no matter how much I want to be able to. Trying to play mind games with myself to escape from fear delays my taking the problems that overwhelm me to God. God empowers me to deal with things that bother me, but the things that terrify me are his domain, not mine. I am not supposed to handle those matters myself any more than my seven year old is supposed to sew stitches in her forehead.

What about asking for God’s help to live in the present? Wouldn’t that be following the advice given in books and taking the problem to God? Yes, but what may be more important is that I am trying to beat the system and think of the angle that will make things okay. God is not going to make me earn his help through my own cleverness. He’s going to help me through my fear because I ask him and he loves me. I can ask God for anything I want, but if I put pressure on myself to appeal to him in the right way, then I’m trying to solve the problem myself. In AA we sometimes talk of the most powerful prayer that we ever prayed, the one we prayed before we ended up in our first meetings, the one that changed our lives. Although the settings and circumstances were different for us all when we prayed that prayer, we’re in complete agreement on what the words were. “Help me.”