Steps Two and Three

Step Two:  We came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.

Step Three:  We made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.

Journaling prompts taken from Gentle Path Through the Twelve Steps.

Spiritual Affirmations

These are the affirmations I find most appealing from the Gentle Path book:

I am connected to my planet.  I experience the sky, the wind, the rain, and all the elements of my environment.  I am aware of the cycle of life.  Each day brings greater awareness of my place in this universe.

I have an inner, true voice that is in harmony with the universe.  Each day I develop greater acuity and discernment in interpreting my voice's clear messages to me.

My body is my primary vehicle for embracing the awe of my world.  Each day I nurture and tend to it.  Stretching my body brings energy, strength, and confidence to face my struggles.

My wounds are my teachers.  I am open to their lessons.

Promises

These are the OA promises which appeal to me the most:

We will comprehend the word serenity and we will know peace.

That feeling of uselessness and self-pity will disappear.

Self-seeking will slip away.

Fear of people and of economic insecurity will leave us.

I am creating a page of affirmations, promises, and other miscellaneous bits and pieces that I want to read every morning when I wake up, and every night when I go to bed.  This idea is from the Beck Diet Solution.

One Year To Live Fantasy

I'm finding this exercise to be really emotional.  Maybe in part because, at over 150 lbs overweight, there is a possibility that I could be dead in a year.  I don't have any illusions about the state of my health, and I'm constantly afraid that death is just around the corner.

If I were to receive news that I only had a year to live, I would be a wreck.  I don't know how I would function.  I'm sure I would tell my husband, and probably my sister and my father right away.  I think my immediate reaction would be to just want to curl up in bed, surrounded my family.

The changes I would make in my life would center around my family.  I would cut out as many distractions as possible.  Forget spending afternoons goofing around on the internet.  Drop pretty much everything that took me away from my children.  I would focus on being engaged and present with my family.  Get rid of the phone.  I would try to make as many good memories for my children as possible.  I would work to find acceptance:  of myself, and of them, and of my husband.  Of the rest of my family.  I would find a way to spend more time with my family that lives far away.

I would do the things I'm embarrassed to do because of my size.  I would wear a bathing suit to the beach or to the water park and swim with my family.  I would laugh, I would run and play.  I would sing loudly and terribly.  I would stop being afraid of being seen.  I would want to be seen - to be remembered - to leave some sort of mark on this world, even if just in people's memories.  I would be outside all the time.  Because it's a fantasy, and in fantasies we are all rich - I would go to Iceland and Wales.

I would be kind to people.  I would stop procrastinating about service projects, I would volunteer and have my children join me, to teach them the joy in giving to others.

I would tell people that I love them.  Not just my family, but friends, too.  Even friends I haven't been in touch with in years, but who meant something to me in other times of my life.  I would accept people as they are, greatly flawed and all, and tell them that I love them, regardless.  I would write letters of acceptance, forgiveness, and love, so that those who don't hear me the first time can read my words after I'm gone.

I would write letters, letters and letters to my children, explaining who I am, why I did the things I did, why I made the choices I made, and how, above all, they have been the brightest and most wonderful part of my life.  I would tell them all the amazing, fantastic, completely loveable things about themselves, so that they will know, without a doubt and for the rest of their lives, that they are worthwhile and so loved.

My last fling - I feel silly about this, but I would spend time in Disney World.  I would ride all the rides, including the water slides, I would meet the characters and hug them all.  I would put down the camera and watch the joy on my children's faces.  I would laugh, a lot.

I would make sure my husband was by my side for all of it.  Every last bit.

I would find a cabin in the woods, with a stream running next to it, to spend my last few days.  It doesn't really matter where, so long as it's warm enough to be outside.

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Looking back on my answers, I think there are a few things that are pretty obvious.  First, my children are clearly the most important thing to me (followed closely by my husband).  I wouldn't care if I never got to travel or sky dive or anything like that, so long as I got to love my children.  Laughter and silliness - joy- are high up on my list of priorities.

I think it's also revealing that I wouldn't actually make many drastic changes.  The journaling prompts read, "During the fantasy, you may have found yourself doing things significantly differently from how you live now.  Why would this be so?  If they were so important to get done, what prevents you from doing them now?"  Yes, I can cut back on time I spend on the internet or on my phone, and I probably should.  But as far as cutting out all things that take me away from my kids - well, I can't actually do that in real life.   Most of the things I would want to do involve things I already do, just more:  laugh more, love more, validate more, accept more.  The one big change that I could conceivably do would be to stop letting my weight get in the way.

Just imagine the life I could lead if I could move easier, if I could actually run around with my kids at the park, if I could keep up with them, if I could climb all those stairs at the water park.  That's the change I really need to make, to live the life I dream of, to live the life I'd lead if I only had a year to live.

"How do you feel about facing your own death?"  Honestly, that's a topic I do my damnedest to avoid thinking about.  Death terrifies me.  As in, gives me a panic attack when I'm not a person who has panic attacks.  I don't believe in god or in an afterlife.  That we have just a set amount of time on this earth, and then it ends - just snuffs out like a candle - oh my god.  And given that I'm absolutely terrified of dying, it makes absolutely no sense that I don't take care of my body, to try to extend my time here as long as possible.  That's absolutely insane.

Serenity Prayer:

Grant us the serenity to accept the things we cannot change,
Courage to change the things we can,
And the wisdom to know the difference.