The Grace of Time to Think . . .

wolf

Part of my mountain bike route

Today was stressful.  I walked into a “retreat” type meeting this morning and was told that the new hire who is to act as my assistant is being held up in a bureaucratic limbo.

me – For how long?

them – I don’t know.

me – But we have already been through the bureaucracy and gotten approval.

them – Yes, I know – but there is this new “soft-freeze” where every replacement hire must be approved again.  Plus you are starting the person near the top of the pay grade.

me – But we already got approval for the pay rate, right?

them – Yes.

me – I can’t keep working 70 hours a week doing two peoples jobs.  This is ridiculous.

them – yes, I agree.

My previous assistant’s last day was over one month ago as they moved out-of-state with their spouse.  So here is where I took all of this today.  I was immediately angry.  I know and “them” know that the hire is ultimately going to be approved, but it might end up sitting around for another couple of weeks, or perhaps even a month all the while I continue to do the work of two folks, blah, blah, blah . . .

. . . so during my days of active alcoholism, I likely would have become obsessed with the issue, not heard any of the other discussions at the retreat, some of which were quite good, left the meeting as quickly as I conveniently or otherwise could do so, feeling plenty sorry for myself, climbed inside the bottle, fed my anger and resentments, blown off the rest of the day, perhaps done something really ineffective and stupid, blacked out/passed out, and come to the next day without any resolution and feeling miserably hungover as well. . .

. . .  but today I recognized something different.  All of that “this too shall pass” “if the job were that easy there never would have been an opening” “live into the solution” “attitude of gratitude” and other recovery thoughts tempered my anger. So after I left the meeting, I composed a pleasant but matter-of-fact email to “them” noting I was hopeful the impasse would be resolved in short order, posed solutions and alternatives, but clearly affirmed that without an assistant I could not do the tasks set out for me over the next few weeks, and then I went for a mountain bike ride along the river. . .

. . . and I thought, and was grateful for the time that now intercedes between the event and taking action, where in the past I would have immediately drank, but now the voice of what I have learned in recovery takes the place of alcohol and leads toward a solution.  Makes living a lot easier.

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