I’m a little late getting things going this morning. I had a dental appointment at 7:00 AM and it through off the routine. Not only did I have to face my dentist phobia; I can’t have anything hot, which means no coffee. You’ll understand if I seem a little incoherent…
As I grow older I realize how much I’ve become a creature of habit. Bedtime almost always corresponds with the ten o’clock news. Now that my work is no longer dependent on the weather, I count myself lucky to make it through the whole program. I wake up at the same time every morning, enjoy my coffee and some quiet time on the porch, and eventually find my way to the desk. Either at lunch or in the evening, I make time for three or four recovery meetings a week. There may be minor variations, but it’s always roughly the same.
I used to think my Mom and Dad boring. I’m sure the outsiders looking into my life would say the same thing, but I don’t care about that as much as I used to. One of my favorite writers, Robert Fulghum, talks about going out to get the mail “in an old bathrobe and fuzzy slippers” and just not caring what the neighbors think. He says that some call it “going to seed”. He prefers to think of it as the “beginning of wisdom”. I prefer his version. Maybe I’m getting there…
They say sixty’s not old, and they’re right. I’m not sure it’s the “new forty” and even if it were, I’m not sure I’d want to be forty again. I was almost fifty before I came into recovery and spent the previous years holding God and others at bay. I’m not anxious to repeat those previous years.
My goals values have changed a lot in the last twelve years. Making money isn’t as important and all consuming as it was when I was younger. Work will still be here tomorrow but the people I love might not. I don’t want to shirk my responsibilities, but I want to make time and be grateful for the people in my life. I believe that’s the wiser choice. If that seems boring, then so be it.
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Thhis is a great post thanks
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