Midwest Gypsy

  
 Like good stewards of the manifold grace of God, serve one another with whatever gift each of you has received.–1 Peter 4:10

 Anyone who really knows me is probably stunned that I’d choose a verse from holy scripture to blog about, and honestly, I am, too. After all, we Catholics grow up reading the church bulletin, not the Bible. Upon awakening at what has become the norm–anywhere between 3:50 -4:45 a.m.–I haven’t a clue as to what I’ll write about that day; I just know that something will present itself. And so, when I read this quote at the end of one of my morning readings, I felt as though I’d just experienced one of the greatest ah-ha moments in my life. And I’m not being over-dramatic; I’m being sincere.

One thing for which I’m really grateful is the relationship I have with my one and only nephew. The bond is remarkable, given the fact that we have always lived far apart from each other. By the time he was born in 1980, I had already made my exit from St. Louis, where my mother’s family has deep roots, and he left there soon after graduating from college. We are two of the few outliers, since the majority of the Stolarski-side side of the family still lives in St. Louis and always will. 

I credit my father for the adventurous spirit my nephew and I not only share, but embrace. Orphaned by the age of five and raised by various and sundry family members, my dad became an unlikely world traveler. As a pre-teen in the 1920’s, he tagged along with his brother and cousin from his home in the Philippines to Hawaii, and when he was old enough, he joined the Merchant Marines. He went to faraway places like Auckland, New Zealand–a place I only dream of visiting someday–and had an album full of photographs taken with “friends” that always made me consider my dad quite the ladies’ man. Before mom, of course.

So it’s this clash of values–the need for security, versus the need for change–that can create uncomfortable challenges in an outlier’s world from time to time. I sensed this when my nephew and I spoke yesterday. He is at that age–mid-30’s–where he’s going through one of life’s biggest growth spurts…the desire to do something different, yet not knowing what that might be. Having a passion to do one thing but having to consider things like health insurance and retirement in the mix.  

His dreams include experiencing what’s like to live on the beach, as well as a small town, both of which are worlds apart from Brooklyn. When he told me that, I thought to myself, “Hmm. That’s interesting. I’ve done that.” I’ve lived in Newton, Alabama (population 1,500) as well as Pensacola Beach and each happened as a result of a tiny thought. It really is true that whatever we dream, we can achieve. Something we outliers cannot do–and must not do–is “settle.” That’s just not in our nature. I could sense him trying hard to construct a bridge from what he’s able to do (that the college degree says he can) to his dreams. He’ll eventually figure out ‘the how,’ but until then, his journey will include finding out a whole lot about himself. But that’s how growth happens. 

Most people settle for a less than thrilling life, not realzing that a happy and fulfilled one is possible; if only they’d listen to their hearts. Our hearts truly do sing with joy when we’re doing what comes naturally! Heaven knows the torture we’ve put ourselves through, taking on tasks/jobs that we thought we should do or ought to do that just didn’t fit. And, though he probably didn’t want to hear it, I felt obliged to tell my nephew that he’ll have this growth spurt again and again as he goes through life. We just have to pay attention, and like the Bible verse instructs, serve with whatever gifts we’ve received. Naturally. Without regret.

Chronicling certain episodes as I traipse through life not only gives me writing practice; it forces me to notice and become aware of seemingly unimportant details that heretofore simply blended in with the day-to-day mix. For example, just yesterday, a special friend and I had a heart-to-heart talk about the safety net that is AA…and how reliance on the program, especially in times of greatest need–like when life especially sucks–can be a life saver. And what do you know? One of my morning readings this morning was about that “safety net.” That’s not coincidence. It’s reinforcement.

Now, dear reader, you probably don’t have an issue with pride and ego, but I do (thank you for pointing that out, AA) and I used to think that me/myself/I could handle most anything, just as long as power tools weren’t involved. After all, there were some accomplishments that I was pretty darn proud of. But the reality is that just recently, my disease reared its ugly head…and I’ve been sober more than four years! It was starting to affect my relationships, which was causing me to isolate, which in turn was fueling a growing reliance on self, which was causing even more isolation. Like a tsunami, it started inconspicuously and was becoming very scary. Loved ones kept their distance. 

What I didn’t realize was that I was like a tightrope walker whose balance was compromised; I was unbalanced, off kilter. I tried managing the situation myself (damn you, pride and ego!), but of course, it was inevitable that I would eventually fall. I had to; after all, the situation could not be sustained indefinitely. It all came down to this: At what point was I willing to let go and let God? 

When I couldn’t hang on anymore.

Thank God for my safety net! In a moment of clarity–or maybe it was desperation–I did what has been repeated over and over in meetings: Pick up the phone and call someone. Rather than letting the situation spiral out of control (either internally or externally), call someone. There really is safety in numbers, and all I had to do was let go of my pride reach for it. 

All of this taught me an important lesson. Being vulnerable isn’t a sign of weakness. In fact, vulnerability allows for multiple streams of strength to flow my way. Hopefully, next time the tsunami threatens, it won’t take me so long to reach for my safety net.  ?