It’s possible that God is talking to me through my kid. Since I’ve been sober, the Kaiser talks incessantly about God. Granted, most of his thoughts are less along the lines of, “Does a perfect God exist and if he does is he a personal diety?” and more along the lines of, “Does God have a stomach?” It’s still there. The idea. The pushing. It’s hard to ignore the possibility of God when there’s a four-year old following me around yapping in my ear about whether God is able to pick up our house.
Second-step stuff. I’m comfortable with the First Step, admitting that I’m powerless over the addiction, admitting that my life had become unmanageable. Noooo shit. I’ve got that. But do I believe that a power greater than myself can restore me to sanity? I don’t know. Father Martin said so and Father Martin was a rad (yes, I did) human being.
My spiritual program is lacking, but I’m working on it. Well, I’m thinking about working on it. I don’t know what my higher power is. For a while, I said love, but that sounds idiotic and I don’t even really know what I meant when I said that. Buddhism makes sense to me, particularly in relation to the 12 Steps and understanding suffering and attachment.
For now, as I limp along through spiritual growth, that’s enough. My primary concern is getting out of my own head. I’m compulsive and obsessive. I’m an addict. I withdraw, disconnect and torment myself — clean or not, it’s what I do.
Feelings, desires and cravings come and go. Sometimes I can sit with them. Sometimes I can’t. As I work on a more empty-handed approach to life, I’m hoping to better my experience without filtering everything. Isn’t that what acceptance is about? A clarity of vision that allows me to step out of my mind and observe an emotion with objectivity, watching it float into nothingness.