Circling Around God

“I am circling around God, around the ancient tower, and I have been circling for a thousand years, and I still don’t know if I am a falcon, or a storm, or a great song.”   –Ranier Maria Rilke

When I was young I went to Sunday school every week.  As I got older, I started going to church camp and various youth conventions with the church youth group. It seemed that many other children (and later, teens) didn’t have the questions about God that I did. Or perhaps they just didn’t ask them aloud, as I did. Still today, I question what others seem to accept so readily. Is it a lack of faith? Is it doubt? Is it an unquenchable thirst that nothing quite satisfies? I’ve never been able to say, “This is what I believe, without a doubt.” God has always seemed to be fluid and just out of reach, making it impossible for me to commit to any definitive, unchanging concept of God. Nothing is quite clear to me when it comes to spiritual matters. As a young adult, I studied philosophy and many various religions. Later still, once I got into recovery and began studying and applying the 12 Steps in my life, I adopted bits and pieces of all I had learned and incorporated those bits and pieces into my life: a good dose of Taoism, fragments of Buddhism, and the closest thing to a constant in my seeking: the ever-present foundation of Christianity.

For some reason, before “coming to believe that a Power greater than me could restore me to sanity” (Step 2), I believed that there was something wrong with my questioning, my uncertainty, that maybe there was something wrong with me.  I believed that unless and until I could solidly and completely, once and for all, claim something as spiritual Truth, latch on to some version or unchanging concept of God, then I was doing something wrong. I no longer believe this, though. I have come to realize, and accept, that I am a seeker. I will never stop questioning, never stop seeking, never remain stagnant, never be satisfied with what I can see on the surface. I accept that I will never, ever, ever have the answers to the questions. And that no longer feels wrong. In fact, it doesn’t even feel uncomfortable. As Rilke describes in the quote above, I know that I am destined to continue circling around God, circling around the Truth, looking at God from this angle today, and that angle tomorrow… and even if I were to circle for a thousand years, I still wouldn't know. And that is okay. That is more than okay – just ask Paul: “For now we see in a mirror, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as I have been known.”  –1 Corinthians 13:12

For me, the circling, the seeking God, is the one thing that is a constant, the one thing I know for sure, without a doubt, has been unchanging throughout my life.

I’m Maze. I’m an addict.

Step Seven: Abstract & Poetic

STEP SEVEN
"We humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings."
[Spiritual principle associated with this step: Humility]

When I reached this step, step seven, I felt blocked. Stumped. Dead in the water. When Bill Wilson, one of the founding members of AA and author of most of the big blue book of Alcoholics Anonymous, came up with this step, I’m pretty sure he was referring to “God” when he instructs us to ask “Him” to remove our shortcomings.

Me and my unbelieving self had a problem.

My concept of a higher power, at this point, was still, shall we say, vaguely-defined. Going back to step three, where I “turned my will and my life over to the care of god as I understood him,” helped. Ah yes, the indescribable Tao. Perhaps, even without a personified concept of god I could still take this step. Granted, it would be more abstract than the way others I talked to had taken it, but that felt okay.

The dilemma: How does one ask a non-personified concept for anything?

I didn’t have the answer. Someone suggested I pull out the Tao Te Ching again and see what I could find. It was the perfect suggestion and the beginning of a poetic love affair that continues still.

Instead of just reading other’s translations of the Tao Te Ching, I began writing my own poetic interpretation, and in doing so, I found I was somehow working step seven, somehow “asking god,” making a request of the universe, calling on the Tao.

Some snippets of my own interpretations of the Tao Te Ching that ultimately became my seventh step:

When I am still,
And empty—
That is when I hear.
When I run,
Or grip, relentless
To my fear,
I only hear an echo
Of the faintest echo…
And yet,
Without those vibrations
Upon my ear,
For what would I listen,
Or hope to ever hear?
___

For there’d be no light, if not for the darkness,
If not for the shadow of grief.
For there’d be no healing, if not for the pain,
If not for the wounds of grief.
For there’d be no music, if not for the silence,
If not for the stillness of grief.
For there’d be no joy, if not for the sadness,
If not for the despair of grief.

The negative creates the positive,
For without the good, there’d be no bad.
The right defines the wrong,
For without laws, there’d be no freedom.
The high relies on the low,
For with nowhere to start, there’d be nowhere to go.
___

If I give to you now
That which I need,
(That which you don’t)
What will I have to offer
When you do?
All I can give,
And all I hope for,
Is silence,
A breath of understanding.
I cannot
I will not
Compete
With the whisper within you.
I only wish to hear it,
To really, truly hear it.
And to let you know that I do.
If we come,
Naked, and
Without,
We can begin here,
Right here,
In ignorance.
No baggage.
No weapons.
No need.
It is better that I not lead,
Or be led by you.
___

Be the womb.
Be the water.
Be the giver of life.
When the current changes,
Do not swim.
When the tide is high,
Ride the waves.
When the rapids loom,
Do not paddle.
When the tide slips away,
Drift in the surf.
Follow the flow,
Be that water,
And flow where others
Cannot go.
___

This, by no means, explains the entirety of step seven. I had many shortcomings then. I have many shortcomings now, still. When I can live by my own interpretation of the Tao, when I can practice these things, this is my way of “asking 'Him' [it] to remove all of my shortcomings.” It is not a one-time prayer to some god (or God) somewhere out there to remove my tendencies to manipulate and control, to take away my demanding nature or unrealistic expectations. No, for me, it is living every day and every moment of my life doing my best to practice the spiritual principles that are ever-changing and ever-deepening.

If your soul is centered in the Source,
It gives freely,
Without demand or expectation,
Without control or manipulation,
And it will be a light to all those
Who search for light,
And all those who
See their own shadows.

I’m Maze. I’m an addict.

Step Two: It Ain't About God

STEP TWO
"We came to believe that a power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity."
[Spiritual principle behind this step: Hope]

Oh, god, it was happening again. My heart was beating so hard against my chest I thought it was going to hammer a hole through muscle, bone and skin. My arms and my legs were weak, so much so I had to sit down on the floor. My vision started to tunnel, everything black around the edges, the pinpoint of sight getting smaller and smaller. Last week I passed out when it went this far. I tried to hang on to conscious thought, but it was so hard. Somehow I stood up, walked a few steps, only to sit back down. I thought I should try to get to a phone; I should try to call somebody. But then my vision started to clear. My heartbeat stopped pounding the wall of my chest. I sat there on the floor for a few more minutes, then stood and went to the kitchen sink to splash my face and neck with cool water. It was over. This time. How long until the next time? I called the doctor's office to make an appointment. After hearing my symptoms, the nurse told me to come in right away and they'd work me in.

I described the symptoms to the doctor. After finding my heart beating normally and no other symptoms present, the doctor decided to hook me up to a heart monitor for 48 hours. I was to return in two days with a log of everything I did for those 48 hours.

The heart monitor and the logbook would provide him some answers.

And that might have worked, had he known the questions.

I didn't tell him about the half gram of cocaine I snorted thirty minutes prior to the latest episode. I didn't tell him that I sometimes passed out completely. I didn't tell him that this happened several times a week, sometimes more than once a day. What I really wanted was for the heart monitor and logbook to reveal that my cocaine use was not the cause of what was happening, but that it was something unrelated. Instead of logging, "hit of cocaine" in the logbook, I logged, "caffeine pill" or "espresso." If the cocaine was the problem, the doctor would tell me that these episodes only happened after the "caffeine pill" and "espresso" entries. Then I would know. He wouldn't know, but I would know.

I didn't pray a lot, never have used prayer much in my life, but I prayed a lot those 48 hours. I prayed that the cocaine wasn't the cause of whatever was happening to me. I prayed I had a faulty heart, or a stuck valve, something that heart surgery could fix.

Wait. Stop. Did you hear that? Did you hear what I just said? I was actually praying that I had a heart defect that required open heart surgery because, in my mind, that was more acceptable and more treatable than hearing the doctor say I had to lay off the "espresso" or it was going to kill me.

That's insanity.

And that is why, in step two, I had to find something, some power greater than me, greater than my addiction, that could actually restore me to some semblance of sanity. The addiction was too big to fight on my own. I wasn't the 'power greater.' Most people think this step means find God. I wasn't ready to deal with such a task after working step one and moving on to step two. I needed something right then, right there, right now. I didn't have time to find god. I needed hope and I needed it fast. I admitted I was powerless over my addiction and that left a huge hole right in the center of my soul. I had to fill it. I had to grab onto something that was bigger than my addiction in order to stay clean for another week, another day, another hour.

For me, I found that power greater than myself in the collective power of other addicts staying clean, and helping one another. I went to an NA or AA meeting everyday, every single day, for 6 months. "The therapeutic value of one addict helping another is without parallel." That is straight from the book of Narcotics Anonymous. I found it to be true.

I also found a power greater than myself and greater than my addiction in two weekly sessions with a therapist. I used this power for six months, then dialed down the power a bit to once-a-week sessions for another 18 months. I started feeling empowered.

I got a sponsor, someone to help me walk through the steps, someone to help me walk through the pain, someone to make me feel heard and understood. I also reached out to several others who were on the same path I had begun. I developed friendships with women who had been walking this same path for a year, three years, five years. Some of those friendships are still strong today, ten years later. My two closest friends are women I met in those first months of recovery. Those relationships became stronger than my addiction. Using again meant losing those friendships.
Once I discovered those powers greater than my addiction - the collective power of recovering addicts, therapy, a sponsor, and relationships with others in recovery - I was able to breathe a little, to loosen my panicked grip, to discover what needed to come next. I was able to take some time to allow the toxins in my body and my mind to clear out.

I was behaving differently.
I was thinking differently.
I was feeling differently.
I was being restored to sanity.

I’m Maze. I’m an addict.