Baby steps, baby cakes.

We step because we can, right? Immediate gratification is a thirst that still exists in me.  In stepping forward, giving it a little water everyday, I satiate it. Satisfied is better than hurried or stuffed or grap-all-you-can. I like this intentional life and being able to stop and reflect, making sure that my actions are aligned with my intentions feels good. All of this to say, it's coming together! This site, that is, in it's sweet, precious time, is forming beyond my intentions, head and heart. Thank god, because feeling overwhelmed is a useless emotion, amIright?

This is the beautiful Sandra. There will be more of her in photos and words at the site launch. She is one of the steps that is nudging this baby along to help it come together. It's a great time to talk about creativity and going for it, with Elizabeth Gilbert's book, Big Magic and Brenè Brown's Rising Strong, there is a hum in the air. I've been in tune to that particular hum most of my adult life, but in sobriety, it is louder than loud. So soon, there will be lots of stories of beautiful, creative women in recovery, beautiful photos, inspiring ideas and oh!...a marketplace. Because we have time for this and we're moving forward.

So with this post, another baby step but soon there will be a JUMP. Because I can.

Model the Solution

Moms that are also alcoholics carry around an extra piece of baggage in the overhead compartment. We are bombarded with media, social and alike, telling us that we need booze to cope. The memes, the Facebook groups, the Mommy and wine playdates, the wines directly marketed to Moms all validate any reason to drink. And then if you have a night off from the kids? No problem. Book clubs with wine, painting with twists (spoiler: twist = wine), movie dates with bars are all encouraged because obviously Moms need to drink. And there is no inherent problem with any of these things, unless of course, you're an alcoholic.

So here's the rub. What happens to the Mom that wakes up one day with a nasty little addiction? What happens to the Mom that has crossed lines, any line, that society and your integrity determined should never be crossed? I know that my decision making skills became poor to downright terrible after the first glass, even when my kids were present. There is no shame, either internal or societal, that is comparable to the shame showered on an alcoholic Mother who has crossed the line. None. So what do we do? Enjoy all the wine, Mommies, but not too much. It's very confusing and no wonder I see so many Moms everyday that have no idea how they got to where they are or how to back out.

The good news is, there is a solution. But in spite of all of the recovery, including putting down the drink, that shame can still linger. The best thing I ever heard around the topic of all the shame and regret that we Moms feel over what damage we may have done to our children, what precious time has been lost, was this: model the solution. Show our kids how to cope with stress, how to relax, how to wind down, how to decompress, how to show up without booze. We can show them how we are okay, just the way we are, without having to change our physical, mental and emotional states with booze. We're good and we're enough. I don't know about you, but it never occurred to me that I was modeling the opposite of that to my kids. And even though I really want to make up for lost time, I believe it happened the way it was supposed to and now I just keep moving into the right way everyday.

So this is what we now do with downtime.

Besides, how cute is a boy that sews?

Want to give less ducks?

I am no scientist, but I do know that in early sobriety, running saved my ass. A quick Google validates that sentiment. Exercise produces neurochemicals in the brain, like endorphins, whose job it is to reduce the perception of pain and act as a sedative, similar to morphine (so dope dope, yes!). The other one it elevates is dopamine and since alcohol used to do that, I'd say a good run is a healthy replacement. And yes, my exercise of choice was and is the run. Gyms just don't appeal to me, aside from the umphfshhumphfshhumphfshh of the house music that makes me want to shove hot spikes under my nails, the introvert in me much prefers the solitude of a run. 

A solitary exercise with one caveat though: thousands of podcaster friends yakking in my ear saved my ass as well. I won't go into the lists of all the podcasts I love, but I've been listening to them since 2009, so I've racked up a gamut of favorites. In the beginning, my go-tos were definitely in the inspirational/spiritual genre. And I definitely loaded up on comedy because you can't forget to laugh, especially in early sobriety, it's a great antithesis to crying. It took me three months to find a recovery community, much less recovery podcasts (maybe a story for another post), so I'm not kidding when I say this kept me from drinking. It got me out of my house and out of my head and inspired some insightful journal entries as well.

Now that I do have some time and a recovery community behind me, running is now a form of moving meditation. Ellen Langer, who authored Mindfulness in the 80's, describes mindfulness as just actively noticing things and any kind of meditation can be a sort of means to that end. Once, I counted dead frogs on my run. There were 22, by the way. I stopped to take pictures of my favorite springtime blooms in my hood, saw empty robin's egg shells, butterfly wings, once noticed a discarded, whole pecan pie (serious crimes against humanity). The point is, I started noticing all of these very small, beautiful things that before went unnoticed and were certainly insignificant. It felt like a whole new world had opened up, and that's not just a metaphor. It has made the experience that much more rich.

So perhaps running doesn't make me give less ducks about things that are important, and that's a good thing. But the unimportant things that used to consume me, things that were out of my control, things that used to baffle me,  I have a lot less ducks to give and I have to credit a lot of that to running. The witching hour voices got a lot quieter the farther I was from my kitchen...so did my precious childrens', come to think of it, so bonus. You don't have to be training for a marathon, just don those kicks and take off! 

The Written Bloom.

I have always been a writer, as I have always written words down on paper. The thirteen year old angst-filled, self-deprecating words that were kept under lock and key morphed slightly to insightfully earnest, psychedelic-induced journaling (read: babble) of the college years. Both painful to read now, especially due to my insistence on perpetual uniqueness, but I guess that isn't really a unique experience either. But I wrote things down. And even though I was my only audience, it definitely informed any ability I have today. 

I am an introvert and introverts usually make good writers. I kept with the inconsistent journals and the occasional blogs but unfortunately, I could never take myself too seriously as the impulse to put ass in chair always came after several glasses of wine. Oh how sharp we thought we were. And we are all familiar with the posse of authors that got away with this but, ummm, I was not one of them.

Very insightful. Like Xanadu, right? If only we could read those last few words, I'm sure I was about to say something very important. So writing, just like everything I did, I could only give about 80% of myself, and that was a good day. 

Today, I'm still writing, as you can see. And it's legible! I'm even taking a writing class, although I still don't take myself too seriously. I really make mine akin to storytelling, and if you're brave enough to put your story out there, it can be a "me too" message in a bottle for someone that is isolating and feeling that perpetual uniqueness we've all felt. And still, not even necessary to experience the benefits of writing your story, even it stays under lock and key. Bloom away!

What brings you joy?

Time, or lack there of, was forever blamed for my lack of creative pursuits. And although I thought alcohol made me more creative, it really only made me more creative in TALKING about being creative, never in actually DOING the creative thing. I love the saying that you hear in recovery circles, "Sobriety delivers what alcohol promises". How true is that? Do something in sobriety that you couldn't do when you were drinking. Be the person you pretended to be when you were drunk. And it's like turning on the propeller. It helps to keep you on course. Bonus.

So what is that thing? Well, what brings you joy? What brought you joy as a kid? Start with that. Make something. Give yourself permission and don't feel guilty. We've done enough of the guilt thing already, we're done with that. The fact that you are here, that the Universe chose you to not be taken by this disease makes you worthy. Honor that, show up, give something back and do something. It's not just self-care, it can feed you and you deserve this nourishment. And the simple act of doing can often take us out of our heads so we can experience the simple joys of just being present.

My dream is to have a cozy place here in Austin where we can all sit around a big table and tell stories while we sew and sip on tea. And when we're done with our cute things we made, we can glam it up in front of a glittery backdrop and take pictures of each other in our new skirts and our new skin. Until then, let's meet back here and I'll share with you many, many ideas to jumpstart your creative pursuits and get you through any and all witchy hours. Okay?

To be human is to be connected. ---Pico Iyer

Who are The Unruffled?

So, who are the Unruffled? We are women (sorry for the slant, guys, but you're welcome as well) who have broken the shackles of whatever was holding us down. What do we want? Well, we want to be happy, right? I know, it can be such an elusive state of being, especially when we are fresh at attempting this 'life on life's terms' gig. What if we defined happiness as simply, a joy we feel when we are working towards our potential. Don't be scared by the word 'potential' either, because I believe potential can simply mean productive and we need activities to encourage that feeling. Do you know what you like to do? Okay, that's why I'm here and we're going to jump right in.

Sewing is my thing, as I've mentioned before. If you don't have a sewing machine or if you have one but it's just too scary of an undertaking right now, this is a great book to start with.

This book is from the Alabama Chanin Studios, by Natalie Chanin. She has quite a few books and they all include patterns and are designed for hand-stitching cotton jersey. No sewing machine required and you can even recycle old tshirts from your closet.

This particular pattern is for a corset style top and besides tees, you only need scissors, embroidery thread and an embroidery needle. And coffee maybe.

Natalie says you have to "love your thread". Seriously, what is not to love about that?

Here's a little trick if you are a recovering perfectionist. Make quarter inch slash marks on your thumb with a sharpie to space your stitches. Doesn't that make your little perfectionist heart sing?

This top has eight pieces that you put together like a puzzle. I can't tell you how satisfying this is as it comes together. You must do this.

I wanted to enjoy this as a nightly activity before getting sober, I really did. I'd set out my supplies, make a space on the couch but once the wine was popped, it never happened. Never. Ever. If my potential is making a few cute tops out of my old tshirts, then I must be happy because this activity brings much joy. Simple.

Hi, my name is Sondra and I'm a...

Multi-passionate. That's a word I use now. Perhaps this is the word I should have always used to describe myself but if I were to be honest, for years I was only passionate about one thing and that was my next drink.  The line that separated 'is this fun' from 'is this really not fun at all' had become blurred a long time ago. Am I doing this to decompress and relax or am I addicted? Does everyone drink like me or do they actually not? These were seemingly benign questions I would ponder when maybe there was still a chance of taking it back from the direction it came but that certainly wasn't the last several years. They were the years of everyday was a reason to drink and one was never enough. It was no longer a question of fun but of necessity. I found a journal entry from over a year ago where I described myself as a reckless fate-tempter, luck-pusher indestructible. And that was it, fun nowhere in sight. 

The voice that talks to you on the day you surrender sounds a lot like your own voice, only way more desperate and miserable. If your's sounded like mine, it probably said something like, "This is going to be your life, everyday, for the rest of your life". In an interview, Sarah Hepola (Blackout) said that she wasn't necessarily afraid of dying, she was afraid of never changing. And even though I was slowly killing myself, that was deeply denied. What was apparent, though, was that I would never change. Those things I loved that filled the hole to make me whole, things besides alcohol, would never get the attention and the nurturing they deserved because alcohol had turned my brain into a flophouse. 

On that day last Summer, I titled my life going forward as My Mid-Life Solution. And while there was no drink I hadn't drunk, no party I had not attended, no random guy I had not made out with (okay, that behavior actually hadn't presented itself in a while), I wasn't quite sure where that left me, but I knew I wasn't going to drink that day. And I didn't and did the same thing the next. Once the alcohol obsessed train leaves the station, it frees up some time. I listened to some podcasts, I took some long walks, I read some books, I read some poetry. I read The Summer Day by Mary Oliver, who told me, "I don't know exactly what prayer is. I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass, how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields, which is what I have been doing all day. Tell me, what else should I have done? Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon? Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?" 

It doesn't have to be big. In fact, the simpler, the better. But let's plan to do something with our one wild and precious life.

Late Bloomer

If you just start typing, the words will appear, right? *Ahem* My name is Sondra and I am 45, er 46 year old wearer of many hats, the biggest being wife and Mom of two. I am also a woman in recovery. That felt strange to type but it is my truth and truths are hard things to type out, much less blab to the world.  But damn, is it freeing once they are identified and brought to the surface. I'm also a seamstress, photographer, writer, story-teller, eternal optimist and dreamer of big dreams. So...with that intro, what if there was one obstacle in your life that if removed, could free you to work towards meeting your potential? Give your life purpose? 

Would you feel like you were given a second chance?

Now, I don't want to put too much pressure on this 'potential' thing. Your potential could be mowing your lawn once a week, taking your kids to the pool every other Summer day, or maybe a more creative pursuit. Do you want to finally make the quilt that has starred in your DIY Pinterest board? Learn how to use the camera you got for Christmas two years ago and take a frame-worthy picture of your family?  Maybe you just want to make yourself feel beautiful and confident everyday, have your outsides match your new insides? Write and tell your NEW story?

For me, that obstacle was alcohol. For the last 25 years, I've felt like I've lived in a well. I was alive but my view and space were so narrowly limited, so very small. As I've climbed out of that well, I see the world as so big. I can see so many opportunities and it's amazing. Maybe your obstacle is another dish on the buffet of addictions: prescription drugs, co-dependency, love, workaholism, food. When these obstacles are addressed, worked on and even removed, there is a void to fill. Let's fill it up!

This is still in the very early stages of construction, but I hope you'll join me on this tiny chunk of space that I'm renting on the Internet as we explore and celebrate those creative pursuits that are filling the void.  Please join my tribe, The Unruffled.