Dreams can come true

I’m writing this on a rainy morning – 1st October.

Chrysanthemum

Last night a dream came true.  Sounds like a miracle and believe me it is a miracle.  It happened yesterday as a result of my commitment to recovery and the fellowship of wonderful people on the same journey.

Growing up in a household where the radio was seldom off, where people sang a lot, where there was a ‘radiogram’ on which we could listen to the radio AND play records, as well as a Dansette, and later a ‘music centre, I felt bathed in music.  People often express surprise at my extensive knowledge of lyrics but I couldn’t not know them!  We’d always have the radio on in the car.  I’ve a vivid memory of sitting in the breakfast room with my Dad, listening to ‘Cinderella Rockerfeller’ on the radiogram.  I had a transistor radio on one of my birthdays and would hold it to my ear to catch the sound of music over the crackle and hiss.  Whirling the aerial round to get better reception was a real skill!

Singing along was always fun, and from time to time i’d try to get a harmony part to go alongside the melody everyone else was singing.  When the Carpenters sang about ‘every sha la la la every whoa oh oh’ being evocative I understood!

So last night, standing beside beautiful ladies, I sang backing vocals, in public, for the first time.  In my black frock, on a stage, on a Saturday night, I did the thing my younger self had always dreamed of.

Thanks to a lovely lady named Jo snd her band the JoJos (Nick Stephen and Anthony), my friend Jules and I became the ‘JoJoettes’ and it was awesome, joyous, scary and fulfilling. Jo is a glowing, talented lady, the boys are brilliant, talented and encouraging, and my friend Jules has a talent that will dazzle many unsuspecting people!

Singing the ‘doodoodoo’ part of Walk on the Wild Side, with Bex, Chrissie and Nou, whilst Herbie Flowers played the bass, was beyond anything I could have imagined. To sing a song that once came through the radio to my eager ears…………wow!

None of this could have happened if I hadn’t, one gloomy October Saturday, been encouraged to actually leave the house with my friend Jo (not that Jo, another Jo –  a brave and beautiful lady) who took me to the Cascade Choir rehearsal and later that week sat with me as I wrote out the Step 9 promises in my journal.  Now, as I work Step 9, I recognise that those promises are coming true.

Miracles can happen.

Adele-Marie Vida

1st October 2016

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Noticing

image

Another good reason for crocheting is that it keeps the functional mind occupied in counting stitches and rows and thinking about colour changes.  The airy fairy bit is then free to roam around.

I’ve noticed that the airy fairy bit goes into a dream like state where other things are resolved and so when the crochet session ends, for cooking, answering the door, going to the loo, having to hold an adult conversation, all kinds of things make sense that didn’t before.

Things that make sense this week:

There are people who want to be sure other people aren’t having fun without permission or in the face of factors that should inhibit their fun e.g. being fat, middle aged or single

There are processes that have to be accepted if not enjoyed – e.g. dentistry or vaccinations,  listening to people tell you why you’re at fault so they can feel better

You can’t make other people believe what they don’t want to believe just by proving it’s true – it’s best to leave them with their truth – it works for them and what’s it to you?

Some people use their children and pets as shields, while you are noticing the bitey dog or the needy child you are not noticing them.  They like it like that.  None of my business unless the dog or child bites me

It’s ok to be me, it’s ok to be you.

There are people who notice what makes you less than your best self and gently try to help you.  I like those people and count myself blessed to have them in my life.

Miss Vida

Adele-Marie Vida

24th September 2016

 

 

Crochet and life in recovery

Over the years, many kind folk have tried to help me learn to crochet.   For a variety of reasons, including that of being left-handed, it didn’t ‘take’.    Turning 50 some years ago prompted me to take it up again and this time I mastered it.

My main tactic was to get out a 1970’s Golden Hands book and learn basic techniques whilst translating to myself my understanding of the written instructions.  To aid memory I then wrote down those mutterings in my ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’ notebook.   Since then I’ve crocheted a number of things using various patterns found online, in old and new magazines and of course in those vintage Golden Hands treasuries.

My success depends on how well I can translate patterns into my own idiom and then work them.  Attic 24 is a fabulous resource and the ‘teeny-tiny hearts’ shown above were learned from there.  These have formed part of numerous projects including a string of wedding bunting.  Flower garlands form curtain tie-backs, bunting or festival headwear, using patterns from various little books bought  from the ‘Book Man’ who leaves them in the staff room to tempt you then comes for your money when you’re in the middle of something.

What’s this got to do with recovery?  Well you can’t drink and count stitches accurately, nor can you dwell on resentments or fears when you’re watching a flower or heart unfold in minutes in your hands.  Knitting’s lovely but you can knit for ages and have a piece of knitting.  At a recent camp I was turning out flower garland headbands in under half an hour, to the joy of maker and recipient.  Crochet is a quick way to raise positive energy and I do it as often as I can for that reason.

When I first went to 12-step meetings I was, as I would be in any meeting, inhibited and shy.  Taking my crochet with me gave me something to keep my hands from wringing, tugging my hair or otherwise giving away my state of agitation.  Over time I got more comfortable and sometimes didn’t take it with me.  On these occasions people would say they missed seeing me crochet!  They said that watching me made them relax.  That was one of my first miracles of recovery.

I’d like to help others enjoy crochet – do let me know if you’d like to join me.

 

Adele-Marie Vida

2nd September 2016

Miss Vida

 

Thinking about all the things that people do.

When I should be thinking of what I do.

I noticed this morning that I was stubbornly trying to thread a beading needle (long, thin and unforgiving) with a raggy end of thread in a gloomy room.   Imagining that force of will and perseverence would win the day I kept on at it accordingly.  At a certain point it dawned on me that I should cut the raggy end and move into a lighter area, but will and perseverence had a hold on me.  This caused me to reflect on my own stubborn mindset and misplaced ideas about keeping on with something that was doomed to fail.

I got up and took only three steps to get to the lightest room in the house, with a table on which I’d placed my scissors.  Snip, thread, sew.  Job done.

It’s got a recovery analogy here – I’m sure I don’t need to spell it out but in case anyone needs to hear it, here it is.  If you expect that drinking to deaden negative feelings is going to make your life better it’s unlikely.  Sitting in the dark trying to put the raggy thread of feeling through a thin and unforgiving slot isn’t going to bring rainbows, unicorns, Prince Charming or a pot of gold.

Get out of the dark into the light of fellowship – 12 Step or other of your choice, find your tribe, your brethren, your soul mates.  In the light, with the right tools, pick up a thread and repair your broken soul.

 

Adele-Marie Vida

1st September 2016

Miss Vida