Mess by Molly

Previously I didn’t subscribe to faith.  My mother is atheist and judges those who believe in God.  Coming of age in the 50s in rural Minnesota, she attended parochial school and with it, an hour of excruciatingly boring mass in Latin each day from kindergarten through college.   Worse than Church  was the corporeal punishment doled out regularly by those wizened Sisters who ran the school.  At age 6, tiny with her thick black hair plaited in two braids, little Debby, my mom, leaned over and whispered to her neighbor Cathy that the nun was a shit, a naughty word she overheard her beloved Father and his twin younger brothers use when they drank together at night reliving their experiences from WWII.  My mom was annoyed with the nun for verbally castigating her in front of the class and keeping her inside at recess because she forgot her yellow rain jacket at home.

The Sister’s hearing was not so ancient and she instantly caught my mother’s slip of profanity.  She brought out her long thick wooden ruler and repeatedly slammed it down on my mother’s baby knuckles.  Humiliated yet remorseless, my mother knew the sister’s goal was to make her weep.  She stubbornly refused to shed a single tear and the beating continued.  Adult Debby’s grudge against the Church has only grown. She rails that, in addition to its 2000-year history of abuse of power, it is a hypocritical pedophilic institution whose principal mission is to deny women and gay people rights.

Suffice it say, I wasn’t raised with any spiritual practice and there was no distinction during my formative years between the church and a loving higher power.  Early in life I saw nothing wrong with this.   My mother and I were enmeshed and since she shamed anyone who went to church, believed in God or a higher power, I followed suit, judging people I believed were too conservative.  One early memory I have is visiting an Amish farm at age 10 in rural North Dakota with my elementary school.  I purposely flouted the dress code wearing an electric green and purple parrot jungle skirt and matching top with the goal of making the Amish community feel they lacked freedom in having to wear their bonnets and muted attire.  Fortunately, I had glimpses of a higher power through nature, hiking, yoga, live music, drumming, and psychedelic drug experiences, but it wasn’t until I initiated a daily meditation practice in 2020, that spirituality began to take root in my life. 

In my twenties and thirties, my obsessive-compulsive behaviors numbed my insecurities, and I could not see beyond myself, let go of control or ask for help.   Now, the decision to trust in a power greater than myself means that I am willing to release fears including being:  not good enough, unlovable and unable to control how other people feel about me, my physical appearance and the aging process.  I also have imagined doubts and fantasies that keep me living outside of reality.     I am terrified that no one will ever want to live in a committed partnership with me or that I will ever be able to develop true intimacy with a significant other. These are parts of spirituality that are difficult, painful, and frightening for me.

On the other hand, I am also deeply grateful for my life, health, commitment to recovery, work, financial situation, friends, family and dog, the beautiful city I live in and the planet that surrounds me.  I’m thankful for my ability to travel, my deepening connection with my higher power, my passion for learning, my ability to laugh, and my willingness to relinquish control and evolve during this lifetime.    I am compassionate, empathetic, funny, loving, adventurous, bitchy, annoying, and HUMAN. 

The aspect of recovery that brings me serenity is primarily the community of people I meet who dare to undertake this journey, in particular those mentors, sponsors and peers who overcome addiction one day at a time.  I am amazed at the growing network of support I have at my fingertips, the positive affirmations available to me and the structured programs which give me assignments to complete.   

I have both doubts and hopes about my burgeoning higher power, my tenuous recovery, and the uncertain future.   I worry about the pain and suffering I will face in the future including potential financial insecurity or physical immobility and the continued need to overcome shame and emotional pain. 

As I look back, there are numerous synchronous events in my life which indicate the presence of a higher power at work.  These include moving to California at age 12, choosing to attend the University of Notre Dame on tennis scholarship at age 18, studying abroad in college, getting a summer internship at Motorola and then Qualcomm, and then moving to Hong Kong and later Peru. Many of these experiences were painful; however, they ultimately proved to be exactly what I needed to evolve.  Getting sober from bulimia, alcohol, leaving a toxic relationship, surviving COVID, moving back to the US and finding a job within one day of being home showed me YOU have my back.  

Higher power, please help me release the fears that I am unlovable, that people don’t like me, that what I write or say is silly and that I don’t measure up.  Take away my false beliefs such as my worth being tied to my physical appearance, the outcome of events, and whether people like me.  Help me feel secure in myself and let go of the fear that I will never have a truly intimate relationship with a significant other who wants me the way I want him.  Please help me live in the present and not in imagined doubt or fantasy.   Enable me to release my attachments to people, affirmation, and things.  May I become more spontaneous and willing to live with uncertainty.

GRATEFULLY YOURS,  A tiny SPECK OF energetic DUST,
Molly