Post by Deleted on Apr 18, 2012 2:23:30 GMT -7
For me, a slip is when we really show ourselves as addicts in recovery. A slip is a chance, at a moment when it's critical to do so, to pick up the tools of recovery and to move forward.
It's a chance to pick up the phone and call a sponsor or a fellow addict and to get current.
It's a chance to get to a meeting and tell our story, and to move forward.
It's a chance to lay aside the self-hatred and shame that force us to hide from ourselves and to practice seeing ourselves clearly and gently:
When is the first moment at which I can see the slip coming?
What was I feeling then?
What was I feeling before then, when the slip was really being conceived?
What will I do the next time I feel that way?
What can I do to strengthen my recovery? Is there something I'm avoiding doing because it's just a little too scary, too far out there? Is it time to walk calmly toward that fear, and to pick up that tool? After all, what I'm doing now isn't working quite right, or I wouldn't have slipped.
Do I need, for instance, to go to more meetings? Make more phone calls? Work harder with my sponsor? Go deeper in my therapy? Pray and meditate more? Journal more? Get more honest and open with the people around me? What? How can I dedicate myself more to the central task in my life?
Those are some of the things I ask myself after a slip.
Of course, a slip is never acceptable. It's always deplorable. We're struggling in our recovery not to have slips.
But slips have happened to many of us. When they do happen, they're chances to make important changes in our program, and they're chances to practice all the tools we have in order not to have the slip turn into a full-blown relapse. They're chances to see and feel things we haven't seen and felt before, and to grow in sensitivity, in humility, in recovery. They're huge opportunities.
I think the program slogan is right: don't waste a good slip.
Just my take, of course.
Tim M.
It's a chance to pick up the phone and call a sponsor or a fellow addict and to get current.
It's a chance to get to a meeting and tell our story, and to move forward.
It's a chance to lay aside the self-hatred and shame that force us to hide from ourselves and to practice seeing ourselves clearly and gently:
When is the first moment at which I can see the slip coming?
What was I feeling then?
What was I feeling before then, when the slip was really being conceived?
What will I do the next time I feel that way?
What can I do to strengthen my recovery? Is there something I'm avoiding doing because it's just a little too scary, too far out there? Is it time to walk calmly toward that fear, and to pick up that tool? After all, what I'm doing now isn't working quite right, or I wouldn't have slipped.
Do I need, for instance, to go to more meetings? Make more phone calls? Work harder with my sponsor? Go deeper in my therapy? Pray and meditate more? Journal more? Get more honest and open with the people around me? What? How can I dedicate myself more to the central task in my life?
Those are some of the things I ask myself after a slip.
Of course, a slip is never acceptable. It's always deplorable. We're struggling in our recovery not to have slips.
But slips have happened to many of us. When they do happen, they're chances to make important changes in our program, and they're chances to practice all the tools we have in order not to have the slip turn into a full-blown relapse. They're chances to see and feel things we haven't seen and felt before, and to grow in sensitivity, in humility, in recovery. They're huge opportunities.
I think the program slogan is right: don't waste a good slip.
Just my take, of course.
Tim M.