Am I now trying to win the approval of human beings or of God?

Or am I trying to please people?

If I were still trying to please people, I would not be a servant of Christ.

~ Galatians 1:10 (NIV)

I am much less of a people pleaser than I used to be. If I don’t want to do something with someone, then I say no. If I’m having a hard time saying no, or the person is being persistent, then I may tell them I’ll check my schedule and get back to them. Then later I will decline their offer in a nice way. If I’m with someone I don’t see too often, I may bend to their wishes to honor what they want to do.

People pleasing does not mean that I will give up my plans in certain critical areas. For instance, CoDA meetings, journaling, worship, and exercise are non-negotiable.

Yet sometimes I still worry that if I don’t do what people want, they will take their love away. This still happens sometimes with my family of origin. I learned this behavior from them and I learned it well. But I am getting better. More often than not, I speak up about my needs and desires in a nice way. Sometimes it is still scary, but I do it.

I still am fearful to some degree that the person will get mad at me, especially if it is someone who is close to me. However, it is better than it used to be. I still get a tiny bit of panic or concern in my stomach when the words leave my mouth, but at least I’m saying it and that is a huge leap forward.

If I get into a quandary about what to do, then I stop and ask God what he wants me to do. Then I do that. Because I am here to do what God wants me to do, not what others want me to do. Doing what God wants me to do fills me with inner peace.

Center of the Universe Complex

Enlightened now, I look above

There’s His love, It’s perfect.

After all it’s not about you

~ Expectations from Fearless Moral Inventory

by Juliet A. Wright, copyright 2009, all rights reserved

I am really recovering well from my center of the universe complex. I am much quicker to catch myself and get out of that mode than when I first got into recovery.

The world does not revolve around me, my wishes, or my dreams. People are not always thinking about me. I am also not the cause of other people’s problems.

Here’s an example of this defect in action and how I quickly deflected its action inside myself. I recently spoke to a contractor about doing some concrete work in my new barn. He never got back to me with a price, so I chose someone else to do the work. So then one day he just showed up at my door, ready to start doing the work. I told him I had hired someone else. Well, the other day, I saw his truck for sale at the local convenience store. Oh gosh, I thought to myself, I’ve put him out of business. Now he has to sell his truck to survive. He has gone out of business, is going to starve, and it’s all my fault.

 Stop! First of all, I don’t know for certain why he’s selling his truck. It could be for any number of reasons. Second, he never got back to me and business is business. So neither myself nor my job could have been foremost on his mind. Clearly he is not thinking about me. I am not the center of his world.

I also am now aware that just because a principal might have reprimanded me in some way, she may be reacting to something else that had happened to her earlier in the day and is just taking it out on me. The negative energy I experienced probably has nothing to do with me. She was also onto the next thing in her life as soon as she interacted with me. I am not the center of the universe.

Here’s another example. Last week a student came into class and seemed to be very angry and frustrated that she had to be there. The old Juliet would be thinking to herself, Wow, this kid hates me, and I’m ruining her life by making her be here. I have to make her like me. I have to control her and make her do things my way.

 Then I would have jumped headlong into my codependency patterns:

 I’m not conscious of my own moods. I am conscious of your moods.

• If you’re happy, I’m happy.
• Your moods and actions are my fault.
• If you hurt, I hurt; I think I have to fix you.
• If you like me, I like me.
• If you think I’m good, I think I’m good.^[1]

Then I would have jumped headlong into a power struggle with this girl to get her to do what I wanted her to do and win her over.
I didn’t do that this time. I immediately got into the observer and just watched her behavior. What’s going on with this girl today? I wondered.

During the course of the class, it became clear that she was not going to follow directions or do as she was asked. The new in-recovery Juliet let it go. I went on with my class, focused on the other students, and did my job. I knew in my heart that I was not at the center of whatever was going on with this kid. It was her issue. I was doing what I was supposed to do.

I was a little flustered during and right after the incident with the student, at least on the inside. My heart was pounding the whole time, indicating that my inner child did not feel safe. She felt attacked. Still, I held it together, didn’t take it personally, and kept going. I didn’t get resentful at her or lay blame. That is huge progress for me. That’s recovery.

How did I do it? I plugged in my new mantras that I use when teaching:

• Don’t take it personally. This girl is going through something today and it has nothing to do with me. She was upset when she walked in.
• Don’t react: Observe her behavior but don’t react. Relax, breathe, wait, and watch.
• Stick to business and just teach music: Remember, she’s not the only student in the room. Every student here deserves my equal attention. My job is to teach them music to the best of my ability. That’s why I’m here.
• Think before you speak: I’ll take a breath and wait before I speak. Do I really want to say that?
• This too shall pass: This situation and the anxiety it produces inside me will not last forever. I can handle it.
• Let it go: Give the class, the students, and the situation over to God.

Besides, I’m not the center of the universe anyway. God is the center of my universe. He’s the one that it is all about. He’s the one to whom I need to be giving my attention. Everything that I do needs to be done to glorify him, not myself. What a great place it is to be in to not be the center of the universe. What freedom! What joy!

Whenever I feel like my center of the universe complex is coming back, I can plug into any of my mantras, including:

• It’s not about you.
• You are not the center of the universe.
• Business is business.
• Relax and breathe.
• Where could I put my mind that’s not on this?
• Treat it like the front page of the newspaper.

Working the principles to overcome a center of the universe complex:

I think one of the biggest things that has helped me overcome all of my defects, but especially my center of the universe complex, is working the spiritual principles and their corresponding steps.

Honesty: I become honest with myself and admit that I’m powerless over whatever the situation is, or even over my center of the universe complex.

Faith: I have faith that God is there, that he is all powerful, and that he cares for me.

Surrender: I give my life, my will, the situation, and my center of the universe complex over to Him.

Soul searching: I do an inventory of how I’m feeling, what I’ve done in the situation and why.

Integrity: I tell God and my sponsor how I’m feeling, what I’ve done and why.

Acceptance: I accept myself, what I’ve done, and my center of the universe complex as it is. Just accepting that I have it is such a huge relief. Suddenly the pressure is off. I just feel better about myself, my world, and my place in it. It’s okay. I’m dealing with what is. This is me.

Humility: This is the principle that helps the most with my center of the universe complex. There is a God, it is not me. I’m not in charge. It’s not my show, it’s His to run, as my song goes (from Something to Believe In). Then I humbly ask God to take away my center of the universe complex if and when He is ready. And He is doing it.

Willingness: I am willing to admit that I’ve made mistakes, hurt people, and make plans to make amends, even if those amends are a change in my behavior. That counts as an amends.

Forgiveness: Then I forgive myself and others for everything that has occurred in the situation at hand. I forgive myself for whatever actions my center of the universe complex has had on others. I forgive them for whatever it is I think they’ve done to me.

Perseverance: I keep working my program, working on myself, and do a daily inventory of my behaviors during the day. When I am wrong, I admit it. This still is not easy for me, but I do it.

Making contact (spirituality): Worship through prayer, meditation, bible study, and a constant contact with God all help me get rid of my center of the universe complex because I’ve placed God at the center of my life.
Service: Nothing like service work to remind me that it’s not all about me. It’s all about God and what he wants. It’s about reaching out to others in need and sharing my recovery. That’s me getting out of my own way, for sure.

Simplicity: I keep my life simple, with God at the center of my world. I live my life with a clarity of purpose focused on God and what he wants, not what I want.

The principles are vital to my recovery from my center of the universe complex. I will continue to work them and apply them to my life. Thanks be to God, I am grateful.

^[1] Adapted from the Family of Origin packet materials provided by the Sequoia Recovery Center.

Low Self-Esteem

And what is she? What is she?

She is hopeless

A loser

Out of her mind.

~ Beloved by Juliet A. Wright

copyright 2005, all rights reserved

I still struggle with the defect of low self-esteem. The good news is that I’m slowly ridding myself of this defect. I feel much better about myself today than I did in the past. I’m beginning to see my worth as a person. I’m a worthwhile, lovable person just because I am a child of God. I can love myself just because of that.
Sometimes, however, I still get down on myself and tie my self-worth to what I accomplish in a day, how hard I work, how well my books sell, how many students I have, what other people think of me, and how I look.

What really affects me is what my students and their parents think of me. Making mistakes with, disappointing, or losing students is very, very hard on my self-esteem. I beat myself up endlessly when such incidents occur and really have to work my program to recover.

Process Four really helps me to stay centered and balanced in the classroom.

Let’s revisit Process Four:

• Don’t take it personally.
• Don’t react.
• Stick to business and just teach music.
• Think before you speak.
• This too shall pass.
• Let it go.

• Don’t take it personally: I learned this from my therapist. Anything that anyone says to me is about them, even if it sounds like it’s about me. This helps me realize that I didn’t do anything intentionally wrong to hurt someone. They’re telling me about them.

• Don’t react: I live in a world of reactors. I have been guilty of this myself. I get input from someone and blurt out whatever I’m feeling at the moment. The right thing for me to do is to stop, consider the situation, and say nothing, until I’m sure about what they said, what happened, and how I feel about it. This also helps me to keep my self-esteem up because it prevents me from saying and doing things that I’ll regret later.

• Stick to business and just teach music: So after I have restrained myself from reacting to whatever a person said or did, I just stick to business and teach music. That is why I’m there. Juliet needs to do her job. That also helps build my self-esteem because I’m doing what I’m supposed to do.

• Think before you speak: I need to think before I speak. This is related to don’t react, but it is helpful for me to have it as a separate step to remind myself to do it. What I say matters in the classroom and there are lots of little ears engaged. I need to be careful to say what God wants me to say, not what I want to say. Being in a constant state of prayer helps me to think before I speak.

• This too shall pass: I have placed this slogan here because sometimes things are said and done in the classroom and on email by parents that are very hurtful to me. I have to remind myself that the moment and the hurt will not last forever. God will get me through it.

• Let it go: This slogan is here because after I have experienced whatever hurtful verbal or email comment or criticism that occurred, and have reminded myself that this too shall pass, then it’s time for me to let it go. I put it in my imaginary beautiful goblet and offer it up to God. Then I move on.

I say these steps as mantras to myself whenever I need to during my workday or any other time. They help me get my center back and help me focus on God.

Another activity I engage in that helps me to stay centered on God is reading scripture at lunchtime. I have scripture written on index cards in a bag in my purse. I read scripture during my lunch break while I eat. This really helps me recover from whatever may have just gone on in the classroom by getting my focus back on God. Knowing that I have a loving, merciful God who cares about me and is sovereign over my life improves my self-esteem. I know I’m not charge, I don’t have to control or fix it, and I’m worthwhile because God loves me.

Deep down I am truly beginning to realize that I have worth as a person just because I exist. We all do. We all have worth. We are all worthy of God’s love, regardless of who we are or what we have or haven’t done. We are all equal in the eyes of God.
I used to get my self-worth from the promise of a successful music career. I’ll be a worthy person when I achieve success in music. As I look under the carpet of my past, I find my dream of commercial musical success trampled and crumpled like a dirty gum wrapper that flew out of my pocket, landed on the ground, and was never thrown away. I wanted that musical success for a very long time. Now I know that probably isn’t going to happen for me, at least not the way that I thought I wanted it. This self-pronounced failure gave me low self-esteem for a long time. I’ve failed. I didn’t get there. I didn’t make it. I don’t matter.

Thanks to recovery I now have a different outlook on the music I make in my life. Now I’m writing and playing my music to heal myself. I share it with others in case it might help them to heal. That is the God in me speaking to the God in them. I like that. Thank you, God. Under the carpet near the gum wrapper, there is the old Juliet who got her self-worth from her musical success. So when she failed, she wasn’t worth anything as a person. We can throw that self-image in the recycle bin and fix it right up. Juliet is a beloved child of God just because she is herself.

Next to that crumpled gum wrapper from under the carpet that represents my tortured music career are small pieces of a muffin that dropped while I was eating breakfast and changing violin strings at the same time. These pieces of muffin represent the Juliet who used to get her self-worth from the men in her love-life. Let’s throw that in the garbage too.

I used to think I was only worthy if a man loved me at that moment. For most of my adult life, that was Alex. So when our marriage failed, I thought I had no worth. The soul searching and step work I have done on that relationship has helped me heal from the related pain and relieved me of those misconceptions. I am grateful to God for this healing and learning. Thank you, God.
I definitely take some of my self-worth from what I look like. When I was younger, my relying on this source of worth was worse. I was supposed to look great all the time when I was young. Above all, I was supposed to be thin. This was fueled by my parents’ expectations and, later, a career in Hollywood. I still take some of my self-worth from what I look like, but it’s not nearly as severe as it used to be. Moving out of Hollywood and back to Vermont really helped me with this. I know that I’m a good person underneath it all and that won’t change with 5 pounds of fat, 5 pounds of makeup or a lack thereof. I’m a perfect child of God just the way I am. Despite aging, I really like how I look. That’s a huge step forward for me. That’s recovery.

Now I’ll confront my fears head on

Speak my truth, sing my song

And if you chose to walk away

After you’ve heard what I have to say

At least I believed in me

~ All These Fears by Juliet A. Wright

copyright 2011, all rights reserved

In the next entry, I discuss an experience I had with a parent who expressed dissatisfaction with some elements of my work. How I handled the situation shows my recovery at work. I’m proud of that.

What other people think of me is none of my business. My therapist told me this and I like it. Other people’s thoughts and opinions are about them. They have nothing to do with me.

Thank you, God.

I’m sitting here fretting and stewing about what some of my parents think of me. So if what other people think of me is none of my business that is great news. One parent hasn’t thought much of me this particular week.

Teachers are really public servants. My sponsor/teacher/mentor/friend told me that and I believe her. We are public servants. This, amongst many other factors, makes it a very difficult job. We do are best. Juliet does her best.

Yes, Juliet does her best for her students every day. She did her best at her first Rosemead School concert on Monday. The concert turned out well. The kids who were there performed well. At least four students didn’t show up, which was a bummer. But the students who did show up were great. Thanks be to God.

My commute was horrible that day, but I dealt with it. There was road construction everywhere and traffic was awful. I don’t mean Los Angeles awful, but still awful. We all know how Juliet feels about traffic. I have to put in my Matrix Reloaded soundtrack and stare at my Angry Bird mascots attached to my dashboard to be able to deal with it and not curse like a sailor. Breathe. It’s okay. This wonderful construction will be going on for one month, until the end of school. Oh joy. Lucky me. Deal with it. Okay. Let it go. Breathe. Cool. God loves me. Thank God. Put in a bible tape after Marilyn Manson gets done screaming. Breathe. Okay. I’m okay now.

I finally arrived at school, with only one minute to gather my kids for class. My Early Morning Orchestra is a before-school activity. So I have to meet my students at the front door, which takes extra time and effort. Forget about going to the bathroom, setting up, breathing in and out. Just hit the ground running. I dealt with it. I got through my teaching day, trying to live in the moment and focus on my students. I tried to not let my mind and heart worry about Alice and her grief over the death of her husband.

That same evening, we had our spring concert. After the concert was over, one parent came to see me in my room. She expressed dissatisfaction with her son’s placement on stage. She wanted her son Irving to be in the front. She told me that Irving also wanted to be in the front but was in the back for both concerts. She felt that he was discouraged by this. Irving plays the bass.

“Bass players don’t sit in the front,” I began to explain. “Their instruments are big and I wouldn’t be able to see anyone else if I put them in the front.”

“Well, that wasn’t very well received,” she said rather defensively.

“This is a standard setup for an orchestra,” I told her, staying with the same reasoning.

Still she wasn’t satisfied.

“Well, think about it,” I continued. “If I put Irving in the front that means someone has to go in back of him and I’ll get complaints from that parent about their child not being seen.”

The parent continued. “He is a sensitive boy so he may not play next year. He doesn’t want to sit in the back and none of his friends play bass. He doesn’t like being the only one. I can send him back to the music school. He wants to be in the front.”

So up came Irving to see his mom. When I tried to talk to Irving, his mom put up her hand to stop me.

“We can talk about this later,” the mom said. She glanced towards her son in a way that told me, “Please don’t talk about this now.”

So we ended the conversation somehow and I went back into my room.

Soon I headed out to the parking lot, where I saw that parent again.

“I feel like I miscommunicated,” she said. “I’m not being a back-stage mom, I’m really not. I don’t need him in the spotlight. I can take him to the music school for that.”

This was the second time she mentioned the music school. So was this a threat?

“Maybe if you explained to Irving that it has nothing to do with him not being good enough,” the mom continued. “It’s just because it is a big instrument, that this is the standard format of an orchestra. He would understand that.”

Okay, I just tried to do that and you stopped me, I thought to myself.

“I wish I hadn’t said anything,” the mom concluded as she started to walk away. “This didn’t go well.”

“I’m just trying to figure it out and communicate,” I said calmly as I watched her head toward her car. “We’ll figure it out,” I added. At least I think I said that last part.

So I stewed and fussed about it all the way home.

Juliet’s Defects of Character at work:

• Other people’s beliefs and opinions are always more important than mine. They are always right and I am always wrong.
• Your moods and actions are my fault.
• Your customs and thoughts are always right. I’m always wrong.
• I think I have to be perfect and so do you. Nothing less will do. I am less than.^[1]

Juliet’s Feelings at work:

• This all my fault. I did something wrong.
• They are right. I am wrong.
• They are going to abandon me.
• They are going to reject me.
• I am less than.^[2]

On my way home, I started talking to God about it.

“God, please help me focus on you and not this woman. Please help me turn it over, because you have something to say to me. Help me, Lord. Help me get this. Help me understand. Help me to just focus on you and I’ll give it to you and you’ll figure it out. It’s all for the highest good. Show me the steps forward. I did a little step work and talked to a program friend and that is a step forward. I have value and I deserve to be happy. All that matters is that you be glorified. I will listen to the Holy Spirit and will be obedient. That is what I need to do.”

During worship, God comforted me with the following verse:

Am I now trying to win the approval of human beings, or of God?

Or am I trying to please people?

If I were still trying to please people,

I would not be a servant of Christ.

~ Galatians 1:10 (NIV)

I gave it to God and he gave me comfort. I got on my knees and surrendered to God. I put a note in my God Box about it. My God Box is a jewelry box with the insides taken out. I write whatever is troubling me on a piece of paper and put it in the box. In this way, I have given these problems and worries to God. This makes it easier for me to stop obsessing about the problem and let it go. I use my God Box all the time. It works really well for me.
Positive Affirmation:

• Let’s just trust God for that.

Juliet’s Codependency Pattern:

• Your customs and thoughts are always right. I’m always wrong.^[3]

In recovery, I realize that the world is not always this black and white. No one is always right but God.

In recovery, I realize that communication with others is a two-way street. I always do my best to speak the truth as I know it and act on the best interests of everyone.

So what other people think of me is none of my business.

As my therapist says, what other people think is about them. It is what they see through their screen. It is theirs.

Around this time, a light bulb went on inside my head. Suddenly all the hard work I’ve been doing in recovery and therapy started its engines, and I had my own power supply running in my tired teaching head.

Maybe this woman wasn’t trying to make me feel like crap. Maybe she feels like she messed up and she shouldn’t have said anything. Maybe she is struggling with insecurity inside herself. That could be true too. My being able to think that and not just blame myself for it is a miracle from God. That’s recovery.

There was another way to think about it. I didn’t have to come from a place of fear, thinking things like Oh my Gosh, this kid is going to quit and I’m a bad teacher. I am a less-than human being. I’ve failed and everyone knows it. None of that was true.

Positive Affirmation:

I will not believe Lucifer’s lies. I will believe the truth that I am a beloved child of God.

Then I came up with some solutions:

• I’ll try to rearrange the seating plan so Irving is in the front and still is in orchestra formation.
• I will also ask him if he wants to do a solo.

Pastor Steve Mays says we have to admit powerlessness over things we can’t control and things we can’t fix. That is when God is getting ready to do a major work in our life. So I admitted powerlessness over this parent and her opinions of me.

Signs of Recovery
All of this hard work was worth it. I am, by the grace of God, seeing growth. I am seeing recovery.

For one thing, the time I spent in anguish about this occurrence was shorter. I have been obsessive about it for the past couple of days, but it hasn’t been constant and I haven’t been in complete despair about it. All or nothing catastrophic thinking is not at work as much as it used to be. I now see solutions and a way out. I also see both sides of the situation a little better. I am still stewing about it, but it is not devastating like it used to be. These are signs of growth.

In those moments of the exchanges between the mom and me, I was upset. My heart was pounding and my inner child was upset. However, I was able to look at this woman and see that she was struggling too. She was trying to get what she wanted. She wanted her son to be in the front.

The next day, I emailed both of Irving’s parents. I thanked the mom for our exchange and told the dad I was copying him on the email at his request to be on the list. I told them I had rearranged the entire seating arrangement so that Irving could be in the front and still be in orchestra formation. I also suggested he do a solo and asked them to discuss it with their son and get back to me. In addition, I stated that I totally support private instruction at the music school and that it really helps students to grow as musicians. I was happy with my email when I sent it.

I have never heard anything further from the mom on this matter. I did ask Irving if he wanted to do a solo and he said no, he would rather not. I got the impression he was happy to continue playing as part of the beginners group. I did use the new orchestra formation that had Irving playing in the front and he seemed to be content with that, although he never mentioned anything to be about it.

Now I can look at the situation and realize I did my best.

All of this is for my growth. All of this is for my learning.

Again, as my therapist once told me, what other people think of me is none of my business, even if it’s good. It is about them, what they’re thinking. This makes it an outside issue, just like Tradition 10 says:

10. CoDA has no opinion on outside issues; hence the CoDA name ought never be drawn into public controversy.^[4]

This applies directly to my issue with this parent. This is about her and her thoughts are an outside issue. They have nothing to do with me. This gets me off the hook.

If I made a mistake, I’ll promptly admit it. But I don’t think I made a mistake. I didn’t know anything was wrong. I even tried to have Irving in orchestra at the beginning of the school year, before all this happened, but it seemed like it was too much for him. Besides, his mother complained about having to bring him early, citing transportation issues. She seemed relieved when she didn’t have to bring him early anymore.

Positive Affirmation:

• Today I release myself from all expectations.

I have to release myself from all expectations because I had the expectation that this woman would say something, like “Thank you for what you do” or “I think what you do is good,” but she said nothing after I made those changes.

I have to stop having expectations about people and what they will say and do. I am just setting myself up for disappointment when I have expectations about anything.

I used to have high expectations for everything and sometimes I still do. But there are moments in my life now when I’m satisfied if I can just get the lawn mower started. That would be a good day. Waking up and realizing I am still alive is enough to make it a good day.

I did the best I could. I am not less than. I am a beloved child of God. I am a very hard-working teacher. I answer to a higher authority, to a loving God who is always with me, always watching, always sovereign.

I will keep an open mind about others and accept them as they are. This means keeping an open mind about myself and accepting myself as I am.
Positive Affirmation:

• God knows everything about me and loves me anyway.

This is hard work and there are challenges. There is pain and hurt, but there is also growth, recovery, and joy. God is in control of all of it. I am grateful. Program works. Thank you, God.

^[1] Ibid.

^[2] Ibid.

^[3] Ibid.

^[4] Co-Dependents Anonymous. Co-Dependents Anonymous. Dallas, TX: CoDA Resource Publishing, 2009, p. v.

Signs of Forgiveness

Forget the past

It’s surely gone

All we have is now

It’s best to move on
~ All I Can Do by Juliet A. Wright

copyright 2009, all rights reserved

In my first book, I wrote extensively about my parents and all the defects of character that I developed as a result of the dysfunctional relationships I had with them. In the following story, I reflect on how my recovery has led me to forgive and have compassion for the people who were my parents.

My parents were really into antiques. My mother and father decorated their house with all types of aged items, and they were always looking to add to their collection. It was a passion that they shared together. Part of this collection consisted of some Delft china of my mother’s that used to sit in the corner cupboard of our kitchen. I would see it there as a child but don’t ever remember looking closely at it or taking note of the pictures that were on it. It was just there in my home with me, along with the cigarettes left on the saucer by mistake and the Stoli’s vodka that was in the teacup in the corner.

Through the course of my tumultuous childhood, resentments built up inside of me. I suffered neglect at the hands of my mother, who was rarely there for me emotionally or spiritually. I had a lot of anger towards her for drinking and blamed her for almost everything. My father was in his power-hungry mode, and he had a desire for control, money, and women — all of that really turned me off too. So I decided that I wanted to run away from all of that and not participate in it. I didn’t want to have any part of it. I took pride in the fact that I didn’t want anything from them, not their money, value system, social life, antiques, or memories.

But over the course of time, experience, recovery, and taste, I’ve grown to really like antiques and country style. In fact, I did like some of my mother’s things. So when she moved out to California to live near my sister, I got some of her copper collectibles, and when she passed away, I decided I would like her Delft. Still, it sat in her storage unit for a really long time.

I remember Mom saying when she moved to California that she wanted to keep her Delft. Yet she didn’t want to get it out of the boxes and set it up on her new hutch, because it was just too sad. I couldn’t understand that. It is just china. What’s the big deal? I thought. Maybe it reminded her of the family farm and how my sister and I sold it so she would have to move and live a less isolated, safer life in town, but I didn’t know. What’s the matter with her? Whatever.

After my mother passed away, I did have the Delft shipped from California to my home in Vermont. I took it out, set it up, and looked at it. It has ships on it. Then it hit me. Oh my gosh, that is the reason it was so sad for her.

My father grew up as a sailor on Lake Michigan. Sailing was his thing. After my folks got married, they would sail together. They would compete in sailboat races, and they also invited friends to be on the boat to party. The five-o’clock-cocktail-hour crowd spent many hours on the decks of that boat. It was like a status thing for her. I really don’t think she was that fond of sailing, I think it kind of scared her. But she did it to make him happy and to be with him. She was fond of the status and how it made her appear to other people. That represented them, that boat. So I thought, Oh, that’s it. Mom was a hopeless romantic. Yet that God of my father had failed her. That is why it was so sad because she realized that he wasn’t true to her and the romance had died. Then he died. Poor Mom, I thought. I wouldn’t want to get up and look at those memories every day either. That would be like hanging pictures in my cabin of Alex and me snuggling at the movies and having to get up every day with them staring me in the face. That would be enough to make me go back to bed and pull the covers over my head for the day. I got it.

So Mom was a hopeless romantic. How about that!

This is a sign of forgiveness, that I can look with compassion on her and say, Poor Mom, I understand. Her world was collapsing and she reacted to it by self-medicating. She just couldn’t stand it. I have empathy for her.

I recently purchased and watched two movies that I enjoyed a lot. The first one was called Valley of the Dolls. This movie focuses on the dark side of the entertainment industry, on the addiction to pills that was prevalent during the late 60s.

The second movie was called Sideways. This movie looks at issues of love, career setbacks, and friendship, along with huge amounts of wine consumption.

As far as Valley of the Dolls goes, when it came out in 1967, Mom was probably on “dolls” (what they call the drugs the actresses take in the movie). That is subconsciously what I believe my attraction is to all of that. Sideways interested me because I lived with alcoholism and I am trying to understand it. There is part of me that’s trying to understand how someone could live like that. Mom probably couldn’t get up without a doll or go to bed without a doll. Plus she was drinking on top of it. I’ll bet that is what happened. Thank you, God. I’m not going through this to lay blame. I’m just trying to figure it out.

Gaining a greater understanding of my parents is a sign of recovery for me. These stories are definite signs of forgiveness.

Another sign of forgiveness is that I can now remember the good things about my father, like how much he loved a good comedy. I can still experience him laughing at The Carol Burnett Show, especially the bits with Tim Conway. Peter Sellers and the Pink Panther movies would also send him over the edge with laughter. He loved James Bond movies and was mesmerized by the film Ben-Hur. Being an actor himself, he would rewind the tape, reviewing every single facial expression, vocal inflection, and expertise in timing, which made him admire the actor he was watching even more. He would especially laugh loudly at his own jokes. Dad had a good sense of humor. There was goodness in him. I remember that.

My father also had moments of shared compassion, reassurance, and empathy. I remember him mailing me a letter that I received upon my return to the University of Miami, in Coral Gables, Florida, after my sister Alice’s Miss Vermont Pageant. He had written me a letter of support. I thought I had flunked my senior jazz guitar improvisation midterm exam with scary Antonio because he had said that a few people had choked on the exam. So naturally I thought Antonio meant me. I was devastated and was crying and was sure life as I knew it was over. (A fine example of “all or nothing” catastrophic thinking.) Dad wrote me a nice letter saying, “The world is not going to end. It will go on. You will be fine. Don’t worry about it.” Things had gotten really weird with Alex on that trip to Vermont too. We had parted on unsettled terms, so I was feeling extra fragile. So that letter from my father helped.

My mother was a fantastic actress and dancer. In her younger years, she was a knockout. She was also known around our hometown, by some, to be a real lady. Everything in her outfit matched — her purse, shoes, everything, even the color she painted her nails. I never experienced this part of Mom, but that is what I’ve been told. I did watch her act in the musical Mame and was blown away. She was excellent. It seemed that she was born for the stage. She too loved a comedy. She was a Frasier addict. Good for her.

I can remember these good things about my folks when I look at the Delft.
So the Delft sits on my door-less kitchen shelves. I bought those fancy plate hangers that make the plates stand up so you can see them clearly. The ships keep my kitchen afloat on the ocean of faith and hope. Every time I look at these dishes, I think of her and I think of him.

I have pictures on my piano of them as young people. They were just starting out. They had their whole lives before them and the whole world by the tail. They were beautiful, beautiful people trying to make it before everything got messy. It was their best moment. Now I hold these pictures of them in my mind. This is how I remember them. This is forgiveness. It is recovery. I am grateful.

What things did I do to get to a place of forgiveness?

• I did 4th Step inventories as per Co-Dependents Anonymous Step 4:

Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.^[1]

(I discuss inventories earlier in this book. I also cover the spiritual principle of forgiveness in detail later in this book.)

Through the inventories, I told the stories, and I got them out of me. I told how it felt going through these situations.

• I changed the behaviors that didn’t work for me and built in new recovery behaviors.
• I journaled and worshiped and talked to a sponsor.
• I told God and gave it to Him.
• I shared at meetings and listened to others.

Through all these practices, I grew as a person, did my amends, and came to a place of forgiveness. That is recovery.

^[1] Co-Dependents Anonymous. Co-Dependents Anonymous. Dallas, TX: CoDA Resource Publishing, 2009, p. iv.

Listen to the silence

Listen to it whisper and moan

Listen, it just might tell us what’s goin’ on

Where to go from here

~ Listen to the Silence by Juliet A. Wright

copyright 1991, all rights reserved

This story outlines two experiences I had in which Spirit spoke to me through various people and sources. I actually gave an account of the first experience in my first book, but I like the story so much that I am telling it here again. The second powerful experience occurred halfway through 2014.

Every once in a while, Spirit (i.e. Holy Spirit, God) sends me a powerful message. I can usually tell when this happens because I will get the same message from two completely unrelated sources. It used to freak me out a little bit but now it just energizes me.

The first time this happened was when a friend of mine first suggested the idea to me that I move from Los Angeles back to my native Vermont. At first I couldn’t imagine the idea. What, me leave my precious Los Angeles? Then we talked about it. What is so precious, the traffic? The two and a half-hour public transportation commute? The people who hassle you after hours on the commuter train? Your ever-rising living expenses? Your stress level at your job? Who couldn’t live without all of that?

I quickly realized that my friend was right. I was on anti-depressants and sleeping meds. I was completely stressed out by my commute and my job, which, in the wonderful world of the Los Angeles Unified School District, was ever in flux. I had just broken up with a guy who had been making me miserable. All I did was complain to her about my job, commute, and basically everything that had to do with the City of Angels.

I was worried though. I was still trying to make a go of it with my music, and I felt that I needed to be in Los Angeles to do this.

“Juliet, there’s this thing now called the Internet. You can live wherever you want. You can have that cabin in the woods like you always wanted.”

I started to smile on the outside and on the inside. Was there any place to play music in Vermont though? What was their music scene like? Is this something God wants for me or am I jumping the gun? Am I giving up on LA too soon? What if I make the wrong decision? Sigh.

So I told my friend that I would pray about it. I did, all the way home from seeing her.

I stopped to get the mail on the way home. In my mailbox, there was a copy of Vermont Life with a cover story titled “Discover Vermont Music.” I got chills down my spine. Okay God, I’m listening. Now here I am today, living in my beautiful Vermont cabin like I always wanted.

Just this past week was the second time I received a message from Spirit through two unrelated sources. I’ve been listening to and studying the audio version of the book, Forgotten God, by Frances Chan. In it, he talks about the Holy Spirit and how we need to bring it back into our lives and religious institutions.

I’ve been praying a lot to the Holy Spirit, asking it to direct everything in my

life — from decisions to conversations, to doing my teaching for me, living my life, helping me stop obsessing, saving my brother-in-law, etc.

Well, ask and ye shall receive. A few weeks ago, I was on the edge of despair over my brother-in-law’s illness (he passed away on May 9, 2014) and my sister’s burdens with it. I was grieving and sad for their situation to the point of codependency. I was feeling horrible for a week at a time. So my friend called me on it. She said I go beyond sadness and grief into codependency by feeling their feelings. She also said that I need to learn to look at the positive side of everything. I can learn to see the positive in every situation if I only ask for God’s help and practice. At least he’s getting treatment, she said. How great for him to be living in the Bay area where the medicine is some of the best in the nation, instead of in the jungles of Africa. She said I needed to learn to apply this positive thinking to every area of my life.

“Okay… so I’ll practice that,” I said to myself. And I’ve been working on it.

This same week, I began listening to my copy of the audiobook, The Me I Want to Be, by John Ortberg. John is a minister and author, and he has put out many other awesome books, including Faith and Doubt.

Mr. Ortberg has a fantastic voice and I recommend getting his books on audio, partly for the sake of just hearing him speak. You’ll discover a very cool voice with a great rhythm of speech. He definitely keeps your interest.

He stated that we have the power to change the way we think. We can approach life from a more positive point of view, if we commit to changing our habit of negative thinking. We have to practice replacing negative thoughts with positive thoughts. We can do this in all areas of our life and God is there to help. All we have to do is ask. Scripture is there to help too.^[1] For example, consider this:

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable — if anything is excellent or praiseworthy — think about such things.

~ Philippians 4:8 (NIV)

God wants to help. God wants us to be the best we can be.

I felt chills run down my spine while listening to Mr. Ortberg’s words on changing our thinking. These were the same chills that I had felt when I found the Vermont Life magazine in my mailbox. I was getting the same message from two different sources. God was talking to me. Okay God. I’m listening.

^[1] Ortberg, John. The Me I Want to Be: Becoming God’s Best Version of You (Audio). Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2009.

How grateful I am for recovery,

How grateful I am to God.

How grateful I am for recovery,

It’s bringing me closer to God.

How grateful I am for my affirmations,

Saying them gives my heart ease.

How grateful I am for my slogans,

They make it easier to breathe.

How grateful I am for my gratitude list,
it gets me singing a positive note.

How grateful I am for my journal,

I give to God the things that I wrote.

How grateful I am for my worship,

It’s my daily access to Life.

How grateful I am for exercise,

It rids me of my strife.

How grateful I am for my meetings,

I can be myself there, and I feel safe.

How grateful I am for my sponsor,

She has taught me the meaning of grace.

How grateful I am for my therapist,
God speaks through her every time.

How grateful I am to God,

Giving me everything that’s His, not mine.

How grateful I am for my music,

Without it I would be dead.

And every day that I practice,

I’m always one step ahead.

How grateful I am for my trials,

They are carving out God’s me.

How grateful I am for my sadness,

For it magnifies the joy to be.

I’m grateful for my inner children,

To know them is to know myself.

To ignore them makes me an imposter,

Placed upon someone else’s shelf.

How grateful I am for my program,

My effort produces tranquility.

The harder I work, the closer to God I get,

The author composes humility.
I must confess,

Let me be his work-in-progress.

It is for him that I live and breathe.

~ Juliet A. Wright

copyright 2015, all rights reserved

How grateful I am for my trials,

They are carving out God’s me.

How grateful I am for my sadness,

For it magnifies the joy to be.

~ My Gratitude Poem by Juliet A. Wright

copyright 2015, all rights reserved

The biggest gift I have been given in my recovery is the gift of serenity. Even amidst life’s struggles of love, loss, death, lost friendships, painful experiences at work, or other occurrences that life throws at me, I am finding more and more moments of serenity and peace. I can sit next to my crackling fire and admire the sounds and colors. I can arrive home from work, turn off the car, look up towards heaven, and admire His beautiful, amazing creation of all those magnificent stars and galaxies that He created with one hand tied behind His back. I can stand and look up at the night sky for a few minutes, focus only on that, and experience pure joy. I can stop fretting about my tough workday with all of its struggles and notice how the snow sparkles on the ground when I move. I can even dance around with it like a little kid. In additional to my own recovery work, I owe these moments to my sponsor who is repeatedly giving me assignments to stop, do nothing, and notice such things.

Working my program has also taught me to sit still once in a while and appreciate the good stuff. I can find serenity even though life is chaotic. These quiet and joyful moments help me get through difficulties.

Recovery has trained me to pick up my violin and play a Bach Partita to rise up out of despair and into the deep, refreshing spirit of inner peace. I can read an upsetting email from someone, go pick up my guitar, pour myself into my music, and get healed. These moments are what life is all about.

Serenity is being able to realize when something is not my issue. Recovery has taught me to turn off the computer and walk away when I see something that upsets me, or unplug the phone and go do some yoga to get my center back. It is realizing that I need to take care of myself and that is okay. It’s being able to give back to people what is theirs, instead of heading into compliance out of fear of abandonment and fear of rejection. This is the recovery that emerges from attending meetings and working the program daily. The trials are worth the joy and serenity I receive on the other side.

My recovery program has also helped me find serenity in solitude. I am very happy with my own company. This is magnificent progress for someone who grew up being very “other-oriented.” I used to think I had to have a romantic partner in my life to have a sense of worth. This was at its worst in high school and college, but was even present as recently as during my relationship with Brad (an involvement which I discuss in detail in my first book, which occurred after my marriage to Alex).

Now I’m happy just because I’m me and I have the love of my wonderful, merciful, graceful, loving God. That is what working this program has done for me. I can be in solitude and be content. That is recovery. Thank you, God.

The moment I woke up

Was the day the tests came back

With ev’ry word that left his lips

Sweat poured down my back.

Heart pounding, mind racing,

Soul screaming, paralyzing,

Knee buckling,

blood draining disbelief.

(God, this isn’t real!)

With ev’ry breath

I’m filled with fear

Please dear Lord,

don’t leave me alone here

Bring your angels,

I need you near,

To say, “Fear not”

~ Something to Believe In by Juliet A. Wright

copyright 2010, all rights reserved

In this entry, written in April 2014, I explore the recent heroin epidemic in Vermont. I relate the search for a solution to my desperate search for a miracle cure for Zeb’s cancer. One of the reasons I was so desperate at this point in time is because the vaccine he had received, which we were all so hopeful would cure him, had failed. He was out of treatment options, his tumor was growing again, and he was going downhill rapidly. He died a month after I wrote this piece.

There is a heroin epidemic that’s plaguing my beautiful home state of Vermont. It has been all over the news. “Junk” is everywhere and just about everyone is doing it, the news reporters say. In fact, rehab centers are turning people away and telling them to keep using until a bed opens up!

Imagine a young girl running down the street. She is asking everyone she sees, “You got a fix? I need a fix.” She repeats this over and over. She owes her dealer so he’s cut her off. She is desperate. She is a junkie. The big H has become her God. She can’t live without it. Getting and using stuff is now her full-time job.

Now imagine this same girl running down the road. Only now she is not looking for a fix. She is looking for a cure for cancer. “You got a cure, you got a cure?” She repeats this over and over to everyone she sees. She is desperate to help her family.

You got a cure?

No cure.

Now she is running down the road looking for a prayer. “Can you pray, will you pray?”

She is seeking to get the God in them to save her brother-in-law and her poor sister who cares for him. If she just gets enough people pray, she can surely fix it. She can save him and her sister too. She can control the world. She can fix it!

Look at this girl. Look at what her codependency is doing to her. It is killing her the way H is killing young people in this beautiful rural state. “Can you save my brother? I think if you can pray one more time, you can save him. Can you pray for a new brain?”

I can’t say I was that person exactly, but I sure wasn’t far off. That pretty much describes my behavior for the past 14 months. Begging every person I knew to pray for him, trying to save him. He is my brother, I love him. Deep down, trying to save my family of origin, my sister, to save her from pain and anguish, especially after what she had just been through with Mom. Trying to fix her. Trying to make it okay. Trying to play God.

Now this is where I am. I am still trying to fix it, save it, fix her, save her, fix him, save him. I am feeling their feelings. I feel their despair. And when I’m not feeling it, I’m telling myself I should be. Most of the time I don’t need to do that. Feeling their despair comes naturally. It’s as natural as flicking on a light switch. I have had years of training in taking on the feelings of others.

Here are my codependency patterns, which were running wild:

• If you hurt. I hurt; I think I have to fix you.
• Your moods and actions are my fault.
• I don’t know what I need. I focus on what you need.
• I am obsessed with making you happy, with saving you.
• My fear of abandonment and fear of rejection determine how I behave.^[1]

I feel what they feel. I need to detach. It doesn’t have to be about drugs, alcohol or gambling, men or sex. It can just be that you love someone and you want them to be well. You want to fix something that you can’t fix, change something that you can’t change, and that lack of power sends you into despair and affects everything in your life. There’s this big, thick grey cloud hanging over your head. You wake up and think, “There’s that feeling again.”

Pretty soon, it’s not just obsession with my brother who has cancer and I’m taking on his despair, and my sister’s feelings. Now a little boy at one of my schools died and I have to feel what those parents are feeling too. Then I hear about the mudslide in Washington state and what about the people in that area? I have to feel what they’re feeling too. And what about the people in Malaysia who are waiting for news of their loved ones on that missing plane? Where is that flipping plane anyway? And the people at the hospital in North Adams, Massachusetts! The hospital is closed and they’ve all lost their jobs. Now I have to feel their feelings and fix them too? Better put them on the list. And another friend has a lung that is collapsing. This is going to kill me!!

This is enough to drive me to insanity. This is when my life has become unmanageable. This is when I need to come to CoDA. I need to detach with love and start to take care of myself. The only thing I have control over is how I react to what’s happening.

All of this drove me to exhaustion, depression, selfishness, and despair, and it ruined one of my Sunday worships at Quaker Meeting to the point that I was worried I wouldn’t be able to go to my Quaker Meeting anymore. The thought of that sent me even further into my despair spiral, the idea of not being able to see my spiritual family. (I was falling asleep in Quaker Meeting, which is a no-no. A member of the Meeting spoke to me about it and I was mortified. My falling asleep was a result of my exhaustion, mostly due to my insanity over the situation with my family of origin.)

Soon I am thinking, How can I fix this, how can I change it, who can I call? I’m desperate… help me help me help me. No answer, no answer. No one is home.

So what’s the answer? For Juliet, it means I need to work my program. I need to admit my powerlessness over others, cancer, disasters, disease, and death. I need to give it to God. I need to humble myself before him, admit that I am out of control, and that I need help. I need to get to a meeting, write out some step work and read it to my sponsor. I need to let go of what’s not mine and give it back to its owner. There is a God and it is not me. I need to take the focus off of others and put it back on myself. I need to admit my powerlessness over my enmeshment.

Slogan:

I can’t, God can. I think I’ll let Him.

Admitting powerlessness is half the battle. Just admitting to God that I am out of control and powerless over these obsessions, feelings, control and compliance patterns helps it ease up. Suddenly the pressure is off. Someone pressed the pause button and I can breathe in and out. I can figure out my hand position and get my bow straight before they press the play button again. I can let go. I write out my steps. I read them to my sponsor. Suddenly the current is back flowing in the right direction and I’m going with it. Breathe. Just breathe. Give every breath to God. It’s okay. I’m not driving the boat. None of us are. God is driving the boat. God bless the 12 Steps. Breathe, just breathe. Live every day in gratitude. And let go. Just let go.

It was good for me to be afflicted

So that I might learn your decrees.

~ Psalm 119:71 (NIV)

If there’s one thing that Zeb’s illness and death has taught me, it is that I must trust God. There’s no other option.

Thank you God for this learning.

^[1] Ibid.