I just walked around my yard and took photos of all things I thought were pretty. I took lots of pictures. I just go wacky over the sight of the climbing rose bush in front of my house, all the beautifully perfect red roses in bloom again - it is almost more beauty than I can stand.
The photo above is pampas grass in front of two aspen trees. I chopped down a huge blue spruce that used to stand in front of the aspens... and put in the pampas grass instead. My neighbor thought I was nuts, but she likes it now.
What has this to do with anything? I fear that of late I have assumed that you are all tired of hearing my story, so I seldom reiterate it. I walk around my yard and see the things I have planted and see them actually bloom and thrive and I can't help but be overwhelmed with how different my life is today.
Saturday will mark 7 years that I have lived in this house. When I was a child I once lived in one place for 11 years, from the time I was 3 until I was 14. Since then, never more than 4 years in one place. Most of the time I have lived somewhere for a year, and then moved on.
In my sobriety, I have been homeless twice. The first time at five years of sobriety, the second time at nine year of sobriety. That is a desperate place to be. Homeless. But I learned a lot. I learned to trust God. It suddenly became easy for me to "turn it over" when there was no longer anything that I was clinging to. The lesson that I took from these experiences is that the stuff is stuff. The important things are things that cannot be repossessed. And once I was able to let go of the old ideas, the stuff I had desperately needed earlier came back to me. At 14 years of sobriety I was able to buy my first home. At 17 years of sobriety, I was able to buy this home, which you may have been able to tell, I really do enjoy.
Although I enjoy my home and hope I can continue to stay here and admire my roses for a very long time, I really could walk away from it today. It is not what makes me who I am.
As I was writing this, a sponsee called. She is in despair over some really serious problems in her life. I got to sit and talk with her. I got to make a few simple suggestions, like PRAY. I got to tell her I care and that I have faith in her. I got to tell her that I have time to get together this weekend - since my sponsor and I are both sick and I won't be driving over to the western slope to see her.
The house and flowers don't make me who I am, but the phone call of a desperate woman does.