It was…it is a memory

During meditation this morning, I realized that I have a peaceful heart. What used to be a source of angst and misery has melted into a quiet acceptance. Is it dysthimia? Old age? Whatever it is, I am content to live in the now with no fuss or muss.

My mind brims with memories. At some of these I still wince in recall at how I behaved. At others, I marvel that I had the courage to strike out as I did. But, the memories don’t dominate my life. They are useful, I suppose, in recalling the steps I’ve taken since then. It’s curious that they don’t give me much of a clue as to how I will proceed in the future. How odd? Or perhaps I’m not looking hard enough.

The Big Book says “we will not regret the past nor wish to shut the door on it.” It occurs to me to day that I do belong to AA. I also belong to Dignity Arizona. I belong to the Conditt family. I belong at St. Joseph the Worker.

As much as Rahim whines and pouts in his skyscraper apartment in Abu Dhabi, I don’t really belong to him. I’m still smitten by Ash, I confess, but that attraction grows dimmer by the day. And well it should. It’s been a relationship that’s been circling the drain of mutual admiration for seven years. Either I fly to Algeria to see him, or he comes here. Either possibility seems unlikely.

My birthday week has come and gone. The birthday cards are in the trash. I got my last belated greeting today from the phlebotomist at the lab when I went to give blood for Dr. L. The insurance man was supposed to call at 9 this morning. He didn’t. The lawn people were here. Place looks good again. Neighbors have another car their working on in the driveway. Isn’t there a law against doing a business in a residential area? I’m not so bothered at this point to make a fuss. At least the Sunbird is gone.

It occurred to me this morning that I had originally planned to be in Turkey this week. Funny, I don’t feel regret that I’ve missed the trip. I guess where I’m at is where I’m meant to be. That;s usually how it works out.

 

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