Still One Day at a Time – 23 Years and Counting

By: JANA GREENE

Today I celebrate 23 years of continuous recovery from alcoholism. That’s 8,395 days. And I can finally look back on the woman I was with only compassion now. No bitterness or resentment. She was just trying to numb the pain and heal the trauma, she just picked an awful way to do it back then.

The whites of her eyes were yellowing.
Her body was starved for actual nutrients.
She thought drinking made her more “fun,” because it dulled her big personality and gave her false confidence.

Worst of all, She was not the mother she knew she could be. A less chaotic one. A clear-headed one.

She was terrified of a life without drinking.
So she did it afraid – quitting.
It was time.

I don’t know her so well anymore, but I love her still. She got me here, in spite of my own best efforts. She went to countless meetings, drank hundreds of cups of stale coffee, and got to know others just like herself. She found new coping mechanisms, built healthy relationships, and let her big personality out – all things that would be impossible in active addiction.

Twenty three years ago today, I didn’t pick up a drink. And the next day (when it rolled around and not a moment before,) I didn’t drink that day either. I only conquered one day at a time, and truthfully, that’s still how I do it.

Some days are a breeze to get through without drinking, and honestly, I rarely think of it anymore.

Other days, it tells me it’s my default setting. It tells me the physical pain is too hard to do sober, and who would blame me if I picked up?? (See? justifying…the oldest trick into book.) Half of a good recovery is calling yourself out on your own BS. The other half is learning to actually comfort, soothe, and cope without drinking.

But that’s the sneaky thing about addiction – the thing you think you need tells you you need MORE of it. I had to learn how to shush it without invalidating it – that voice.

Recovery has to be a way of life, otherwise it’s just NOT drinking. I had to unlearn a crap ton. Toxic behaviors and coping mechanisms don’t POOF! go away because I drink mocktails instead of cocktails. Nope. It’s work. I have to dig deep every day.

But I am so grateful for my recovery. It saved my life, made me whole, enabled authentic joy, and challenged me well beyond what I could handle.

Still only one day at a time, even though I’ve managed to string 8,395 of them together with faith, struggle; elation, and triumph.

And that’s a lot of corny words just to say I’m grateful as @&$%# to be alcohol-free.

I have been granted this amazing alternative life. It IS possible. We can and DO recover!

Spiritual

The Soft Armor of a Loving God

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“The Prodigal Son Returns: The Art of Soichi Watanabe,”

By: JANA GREENE

If no weapon formed against me shall prosper, I can only infer that includes the ones we use against ourselves. Words can be weapons sure enough.

God, where I am bent on warring with myself, help me to remember that you are not the one calling the battle cry.

When the sword of truth is forged, let me remember not to use it as an implement of pain; but instead know it protects my peace.

When I want to throw self-righteous stones at wrongdoers, remind me that I live in a glass house myself.

When I turn the pistol of shame against my own heart, remind me that you have emptied the weapon’s chambers, and filled the chambers of my heart with your love.

When life cuts like a thousand knives, you are not the one holding the hilt, nor did you forge the iron.

Nor did you authorize pain, but gave us a tool with which we ourselves can use to cut out the cancers of hatred, bigotry, misogyny, and condemnation.

Words to ourselves can be jagged, and stunting; tormenting and choking. Believing the worst things about ourselves is not the humbleness God has in mind, but a misguided martyrdom to feel holy.

“Woe is me, I’m such a screwed up human. Who shall save me from ME?”

But God had says, “No woefulness required. You’re such a well-loved human. Lay down your weapons; love is a much better tactic. It’s time you realize your identity, oh anxious one. Go tell the others too.”

We are taught our minds are evil above all else, so we collect an arsenal to keep our egos in check. Words can be self-harm.

We are told we are lost and wretched, unworthy of love on our own merit. Why wouldn’t we arm ourselves or protect our own value with harsh words, heavy-handed self-righteousness, and “heavenly” battle preparedness?

Them’s fighting’ words!

But I myself have had enough war.

I’ve learned that the armor of God is soft and comfortable, a suit of protection, a covering of pure love.

It is not only worn, but woven into our very souls. It’s part of us.

It fits like peace, and is tailored for Truth. It isn’t heavy or uncomfortable; unwieldy, or confining. There may be chinks in our armor, but that’s okay.

I’m enough, chinks in my armor and all. And so are YOU.

Blessed be, friends.

Poetry · Spiritual

Sit With This Moment (poetry)

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By: JANA GREENE

Settle in with the guest named “This Moment,”

and put your feet up for awhile.

Denying it’s message will do no good,

and giving up just just isn’t your style.

Tell the uninvited feeling of ick,

“I see you’ve come again,.

I can’t avoid you altogether,

but learn from you I CAN.”

Sit with This Moment now my friend,

(I promise you’ll survive!)

and This Moment

will hold the door open

for Peace when it arrives.

Poetry · Spiritual

Love is the Main Thing (poetry jam)

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By: JANA GREENE

When I pass on,

I don’t want them to say,

“To know her was to love her.”

I’d rather they say,

“To know her was to be loved by her.”

I hope I make you feel seen,

I hope I make you feel heard.

I hope you can feel the love coming

for miles away.

God,

make me an instrument of your peace,

in a warring world.

Your will front and center,

above my ego and anxiety,

dogma and theology,

legalism and judgement.

Help me love others

so that they can feel accepted

right where they are.

Worthy in total,

wholly complete.

If I err on the side of love,

I can stand before the throne

unfettered by all else,

Because Love?

Yeah, that’s the main thing.

God,

when I pass on,

I don’t need to them to say

she was loved by all,

I just need to do the loving,

In order that they will feel loved

by you.

Spiritual

What if LOVE is Actually God? (And other alleged heresy)

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By: JANA GREENE

A dear friend recently said to me “I don’t know if I can believe in God anymore.”

She said there is just too much evidence that a supreme being has checked out, or never existed – or worse – is dead.

“The whole ‘God is love’ thing is a crock,” said she. To which I agreed. “There’s too much suffering,” she continued, selling past the close. Her heart was in distress.

God is love has been embedded in us, we are taught nothing less all our lives, and where does that leave our idea of love those times we feel thrown to the wolves?

So I asked her:

“If you cannot believe that God is Love,” I replied. “Can you believe that LOVE is actually GOD?”

There is no denying that Love itself exists.

It swirls around us, and flows through happenstance and doubt, overcoming both.

It is in every hug, good wish, faithful intention. It is being seen. It is being valued. It is in valuing others.

It is sitting with the hurting, grieving alongside them so they are not lonely.

It is miracles, yes; but it is also in pain. Love often piggybacks on pain.

If your cognitive dissonence disallows you your old belief system, can you worship love and live by the tenants of a loving life?

Not just your understanding of love, but the truth that it is the force behind the details in the microcosm and glory in the vastness of the cosmos. That love?

Love itself is God. When app other things pass away, it’s still standing, open-armed.

Because whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy – go towards that. Be willing to get messy with it. Spread that stuff everywhere. Dole it out like there is a never-ending supply. (Because there is.)

When you find manifestations of love, you will find a God who won’t tell you he’s running out for cigarettes, only to never return. Or say he’ll give you something to cry about. Or any of the other hurtful things human fathers do.

Yes, we are raised being told that God is love, but we have been taught incompletely. We are the incarnation of God on earth. When living out love has a heretical flavor, it’s time to take another look at ourselves.

Maybe you’ve been hurt by the “church. Perhaps you have trauma. “God is love” not ringing true to you as a whole? Old Testament giving you wrathful vibes of a vengeful overlord?

I understand. But can you believe in LOVE my friend?

Love that will sit in that dark hole with you, because it’s not allergic to our shadow selves.

Love that comforts the broken.

Love as a force that rises to meet the victim.

Love as the catalyst for every simple contact we have for the hurting.

Where there is confusion, it’s the thing we can hang our hats on.

Where there is bigotry, it’s the force that overcomes.

Oh yes. I believe that all things loving and lovely, and pure of intention, are of God.

And that includes US!

I wish you peace, joy, and comfort today, dear reader. I wish you rest in a safe, warm Source of Love.

Blessed be.

chronic illness · Spiritual

The Lonesomeness of Chronic Pain

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Hi, friends.

I attended an Indigo Girls concert with a dear friend Friday evening. We had a blast! I didn’t think I was going to able to go at all, so I was thrilled to be there. But by the time I drove back home, I was in severe pain.

Some of us chronic illness patients are in some degree of pain 24/7. I’ve had to learn to conduct life with it, love with it, laugh with it, function with it.

People have alluded that we couldn’t POSSIBLY be in THAT MUCH pain so often. A person with chronic pain couldn’t possibly get dressed every day, or enjoy a comedy, or maintain relationships in the misery of constant pain.

But we certainly cannot writhe around on the floor screaming in agony 24/7. We want to, but we can’t, because after the writhing and fit-throwing, guess what? There is STILL pain – infuriatingly, but there is also still life to be had.

I have had too many tantrums to count, over the years, and I reserve the right to have others when applicable. They can be cathartic. But it’s not a sustainable mindset.

At some point you have to stop writhing and crying. The world goes on, and so must you.

So we learn to mask, and we mask the pain constantly; because life requires us to in order to function in society. We have families to take care of, and friendships to give attention. We have chores and duties.

It’s unfair in EVERY level to all parties involved.

But I see no benefit to being Pollyanna about my health – if I’m not transparent with y’all, who does that help?

So I write about it a lot – it’s 4:30 in the morning and I have tears of frustration in my eyes, and it’s the loneliest feeling I’m the world to be in my own body right now. Writing about it releases some of the pressure in my mind.

Just in case any of my chronic pain friends are also up at 4:30 in the morning ina fetal position, fighting nausea, or just feeling alone… please know you’re not alone.

I see you, I hear you, and I love you.

Better days will come – I know because I had one Friday. Sometime I even have a few in a row!

It’s the assuredness that on another day, there will be one more day trip with My Beloved. One more awesome concert. One more beach day. One more delicious meal (when I can eat.)
In other words – much like working my recovery program – it’s done one single day at a time.

Invisible illnesses exist. People who don’t look sick can be very, very sick. Always be more kind than usual to folks, please. You never know what another human is going through. Love. ❤️

Spiritual

An Earth-Side Quest

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By: JANA GREENE

If we are eternal creatures having a physical experience for an allotment of years on Earth, it begs the question:

Why have a physical experience at all? Especially with all the heartbreak and tragedy raging all around us. What’s the value in being here?

No matter how crazy life gets, I truly believe there is purpose in our being Earth-side. And I recognize that having a human experience enables us to experience things others in the spiritual realm may not.

Take chocolate, for example. Do angels eat chocolate? We do. It’s delicious.

When they hear Led Zeppelin, so they feel the music in their physical bones? We can. (And it’s like climbing a stairway to Heaven!)

We have thunderstorms so rumbly, you feel the thunder in your chest.

Literal water falls from the sky, on the regular. That’s some legit Garden of Eden stuff there.

Water is one of my favorite parts of being human. How would we appreciate the Living Water that is our Creator, had we not known the concepts of thirst and satiation?

We can climb trees that have their own intelligence, and admire flowers that God didn’t need to make so pretty, but did.

We get to host the lives of other sentient beings – little furry forever friends. We get our faces kissed with slobber, and benefit from the vibrations of a purr, and although I know pets go to Heaven, I’m grateful for their pretense in this intense world.

We have telescopes to remind us how small we are, and microscopes to show us how intricately we are put together; for we are made of divine love, and stardust.

We have books – vast volumes of human history and human frivolity, ours for the ingesting.

And we have tacos, y’all. In all the universe, we get to enjoy tacos!

Best of all, we have one another. That’s really something – relationships. Just two Earthlings who took a shine to each other and become friends for life. What? That’s crazy! And I love it.

We have such grace and grief, both; double-edged swords that clear the rubbish of human drudgery to make room for the fruits of the Spirit.

If you are living under skin and over bone, you are on a quest. Get excited.

The world – even with its trials and tragedies – is one God so loves. It’s messy and painful and sometimes I’m not sure why he loves it. but I’m certain it’s loved because look around us.

May we find love, joy, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self control in our human experience.

Better yet, while we are questing, may we BE love, joy, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self control.

And May the angels and eternal beings on the other side cheer us on as we throw down the gauntlet, anxious with anticipation.

What are your favorite parts of being human?

Blessed be, friends.

Spiritual

The Sisterhood of Self-Actualization

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By: JANA GREENE

Look at you, in the here and now!

Look how far you’ve come.

When you were a child, you weren’t allowed to exist as that very basic thing – a child. And so you didn’t know how to play without furrowed brows and anxiety for the longest time.

Look at you now, playful and free, laughing at the most juvenile humor imaginable. Look at you doing things just for the sake of FUN!

And sweet friend, I know you have suffered life-altering trauma and faced circumstances so devastating, you would have deemed it unsurvivable, had you known it was coming.

You thought, “well, I’d never be able to survive that – anything but THAT – God forbid it ever happened!”

But God didn’t forbid it.

And you’re still standing.

Remember when you let other people define you? A lifetime of stuffing your own feelings out of reverence for the OTHER person? As if you deserve no reverence for yourself?

Sisters, the Universe reveres you; surely you can do the same. Surely you can find that your worth is equal to the ones you make feel worthy.

Your own definition of you is the only opinion that matters in the least. Isn’t that ironic?

For a while, you were bitter; an undercurrent of constant anger running in the background of your ether, which is MOST “un-ladylike” of you.

Patriarchal pish-posh, I say.

Look at you now, with an open heart so cavernous as to swallow up the whole broken world into a wild love, and spit out the bitterness. You’re slaying it like a freaking LADY, and a badass one at that.

They tried to hijack your newfound happiness because misery loves company and you’ve SO over the weeping and gnashing of teeth bit. That’s hard for miserable people to accept – that you have the audacity to let things go.

Yes, now here you are. Has anyone bothered to read you the scoresheet?

You have made it through 100% of the heartbreaks, rejections, and tragedies you have EVER experienced.” That takes some doin’!

You are part of a mighty Sisterhood! Link arms with me and let’s meander through this crazy world together – a place of radical silliness, a penchant for overcoming, and self-acceptance.

Look at you in the here and now!

Look how far you’ve come!

And growth looks beautiful on you, my friend. ❤️

Spiritual

Please Pray for Me (the church-approved, traditional, official method, though; none of that new-age hippy-dippy juju stuff.)

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By: JANA GREENE

A friend I admire very much recently posted a prayer request, shortly followed by this sentiment: “Don’t bother to pray for me if you’re sending good vibes, good intentions, positive energy, etc. only God can heal me.”

It made me sad for her.

Although I am actually inclined to agree with her ALL healing comes from Source. Powers of darkness ain’t gonna heal you because you asked “the wrong way,” because darkness doesn’t heal. Ever. It can’t.

You’re either getting your healing from God or not at all, no matter how woo-woo your friends pray for you.

But advising your friends who may believe differently than you who are wanting to transfer light, love, and healing to you to “please don’t, unless you’ll do it the right way,”

It’s like throwing the baby out with the bathwater. Especially when you consider that prayer IS “focused attention” – another human being imploring goodness and healing and mercy over you from the one Power who can handle it.

I’m religious circles, we call that “speaking life” over someone. And it seems a pity to reject how ever one can best send love and light for a letter-of-the-law incantation approved by the church proper.

Eastern religions have a much better grasp on this concept. We, on the other hand, almost take a Christmas Nationalist stand about it. “By GOD there is ONE way to pray for me and the Bible CLEARLY says how to do it, so don’t come in here with your weirdo ideas, which are surely demonic, since I don’t understand it.”

When we eschew good intentions that loving people bestow on us because their way of loving us is considered sub-par to your own religion, it’s a loss.

If “good vibes” won’t heal you according to your theology, where do you assume such vibes originate? Where would good, loving intentions for you come from exactly?

When we throw away their manifestations of love for us because they use the word “energy” rather “than prayer.” … we are losing something very important. The humanity of ourselves, and by proxy, the humanity of Jesus.

You are petitioning the Highest Power that exists in the entire universe for MY healing and wellbeing. And if you do so while on your knees, or with a pretty rocks in hand (even the rocks cry out, remember?) I would be honored.

In conclusion, and with a nod to Dr. Dre (wait, I mean Dr. SEUSS:)

I do so like your prayers for me,

I do so love them, cuz you see,

I’m blessed no matter how you say

“God, please make my friend okay.”

You can implore the heavens for me,

You can send me good energy,

You can go straight to Jesus with stuff,

You’re well-wishes are more than enough.

I will take your “standard prayers,”

Your meditations show you care,

Whatever is good, and kind, and true –

I’ll take that hippy-dippy stuff too!

I would love your blessings

Here or there,

I’ll except your good vibes

EVERYWHERE.

God bless us, every one.

Spiritual

Love and Parking Spaces

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By: JANA GREENE

I used to pray for good parking spots, and HALLELUJAH in praise, as holy-rolled into my divine space at Target. Obviously, I’m super spiritual.

Why, just last week I won $5 on a scratch-off lotto ticket AND I caught that clearance sale at Kohls and the dress was just my size!

*Shaking my head.*

That was my theology… “I can do ALL things through Christ, who – before the foundation of the universe – willed me to receive shallow, trivial things to prove his majesty to me.

God is eithera benevolent dude who puts his pants on one leg at a time like all the rest of us and is moving heaven and earth to make sure you get that good parking space,

God is a cosmic force who knows all like omnipotent Santa Clause, spinning celestial bodies in perfect orbit, and from his mighty throne, waits to call you out on your peasant misdeeds.

Or maybe,

God is like Jesus.

Passing out grace in scandalously copious fashion, all sweet and willy-nilly. Like honey, it sticks to everything and the sweetness cuts the bitterness of everything else in life.

Maybe God isn’t a “sky daddy,” reigning from a throne in there heavens. Perhaps he sits on the actual thrones that we know as our human hearts.

And if that’s true (and I know it is because my soul keeps elbowing me in the ribs to make sure I’m paying attention,) that changes EVERYTHING.

I’m not sure I believe God cares which parking spot I get anymore, and that can seem like a loss of faith when you’ve been begging God for things all your life – from parking spots to healing my illness which has no cure, to fixing my despair.

But it’s not a loss. I’ve learned God is just like Jesus. And Jesus is Love. By association, we are Love too.

And this is how 1 Corinthians 13 has revealed itself to me:

Love never gives up, not even when you can imagine no way out of the pain.

Love cares more for others than for self, and shows it.

Love doesn’t want what it doesn’t have. It in itself is plenty.

Love doesn’t have a swelled head, it is a pouring out, not a showing-off.

Love doesn’t strut; it’s prowess doesn’t say “look at me!” but reflects in a humbling contemplation.

Love doesn’t force itself on others, spreading the dry-bone, legalistic “gospel” for the sake of evangelizing.

It is rarely “me first,” but rather “how can I be of service?”

Love doesn’t fly off the handle, but keeps its calm.

Love doesn’t keep score of the sins of others, even when we are really sure someone deserves their comeuppance.

Love doesn’t revel when others grovel, it shall always be preeminent.

Love is pleasure in the flowering of truth.

It puts up with anything,

Love trusts its Source.

Love never looks back, it lives in h the now.

Love looks for the best, especially when nobody else can seem to find it.

Love keeps going to the end;

Way past the parking lot.

Long after our Earth Suits are finally healed.

Continuing until we are one with the celestial bodies in perfect orbit…

From the thrones that have been in us all along.,

Just like Jesus.

Poetry · Spiritual

Undone

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By: JANA GREENE

She used to be such a “good” Christian,

Proverbs 31 to the core.

But then she listened to the voice

Who told her to want more.

“More of you, God!”

She would say.

“I’m striving hard, you see!”

“”Why are you striving

So hard, child,

Cannot you simply be?“

The war she fought within herself

Had already been won.

And when she finally

Understood,

She became undone.

“But I must be holy” she said.

And pleasing to your sight!”

“Have I not told you, child,

You’re already salt and light?

And do you not remember,

I’ve already

Won the fight?”

And in the end of warring,

She was learning just to be.

Slowly,

And with great surrender,

She realized she was free.

Spiritual

The Evolution of a Rainbow

February 12, 2023February 12, 2023 Jana GreeneLeave a comment

Thanks to my Source for this beautiful reminder that spectacular things often take time.

By: JANA GREENE

The evolution of a rainbow.

It developed before our eyes, but slowly, like a Polaroid.

So often, I want instant rainbow.

I want whatever haunts or hurts me to resolve in a brilliant display from broken pieces, right away.

Don’t tarry, God. Dazzle me!

But God tarries. He tarries what seems like a lot.

All the most beautiful things in my life have been via a slow burn. And I’ve been impatient with most of it.

The prism forms before I can see it, so I wallow in the grayness in a sullen pout. Everything is swallowed up in gray.

But the light is always there. Think about that miracle! Can you imagine?

The colors of the rainbow are really always surrounding us, we just can’t predict the refraction that bends light in a technicolor display.

The chemical makeup of the atmosphere doesn’t change, only our perception of it.

I believe all of Heaven is refracted light, comprised of love so pure, there are colors we cannot conceive of in this realm at all.

We cannot even imagine a color that doesn’t exist – go ahead and try! – but they will envelop us one day.

It gives me comfort that people I love are walking in that brilliance.

It reminds me to trust the process.

If I stop my worries long enough to appreciate the process, the process has merits all its own.

Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet – each have their turn.

We And when at it’s peak, and I’ll try to remember that lovely things – like this big, bold voluptuous rainbow – come out of a storm over the ocean, so vast.

What a thoughtful thing for God to do, give us a little glimpse.

And as we watched it fade into the aquamarine sky,

He dazzles us.

Recovery · Spiritual

Recovery – The Knot at the End of Your Rope (that Becomes a Ladder)

February 2, 2023February 2, 2023 Jana GreeneLeave a comment

By: JANA GREENE

I am watching “Intervention,” which is a great series, but very heavy subject matter. I watch a lot of TV when I’m having a high-pain day. I used to feel guilty about watching TV in the middle of the day, because AYYYYYY! If I can feel guilty about something, I’m going to glom on to that shit. It’s familiar to me. But I’m learning to go easier on myself.

I watch Intervention because I admire interventionists, recovery is an incredible journey, and I’m a huge fan of observing “what makes people tick.” Psychology fascinates me.
And mostly, I love the show because some folks rise from the ashes like a phoenix, and that stuff is inspiring.

Intervention hits especially hard because I’m an alcoholic. It’s been 22 years since my last drink.

When I got sober, I didn’t think it would “stick” but I just kept NOT having a drink that day. And then the next day, always eternally promising myself I would not drink today.

I now have 8,066 days alcohol-free. That’s a miracle.

I wish everyone got their miracle. I truly believe it’s possible for everyone. Not on the other side of this life, but IN this one. And I don’t know why I made it out of active alcoholism while many do not. It’s easy to feel survivor’s guilt about it. But that’s a blog post for another day.

On January 2, 2001, I took my last drink. I was turning yellow. My body was demanding alcohol by every day’s end. But when I would drink, my body would also reject the alcohol, in a most unpleasant and projectile manner.

And nobody knew how much I was drinking. I mean, NO one. So the shame factor was tremendous.

I was trying to drown Trauma that knew how to swim like Michael Phelps, without even knowing that’s what I was doing.

When I first got sober, it was on this brand new technology – the INTERNET! The support group was “Alcoholism in Women” AOL. Yep. America Online, people.

I’d like to write about that experience (maybe later this week?) Recovery puts you in a vulnerable place. One of those ladies is still a dear friend to this day. But some of them didn’t make it out.

Some of those precious, strong, beautiful souls lost their lives to alcohol. It’s heartbreaking.

As far as I can tell, the purpose for making it through something hard is to help someone else get through something hard. That’s why I’m open about why I don’t drink.

At the end of each episode of Intervention, there is a segment that shows whether or not the addict chooses to get help, and usually includes a short follow up. Some refuse help outright. Some go but don’t take advantage fully of the help.

But some of them – many – get their new start. They grab onto it with both hands, with the same passion they had for their drug (which is what it takes,) and it’s the most beautiful thing in the world. Makes my heart soar!

That’s what I wish for every addict and alcoholic. It’s possible for all of us, but we have to be willing to do anything to keep healthy.

If you are drinking more than anyone knows,
If you feel hopeless and full of shame,
If you cannot imagine your life improving vastly,
If you think you’ve really blown it this time,
If your heart is raw from a lifetime of trauma,
If you wonder if you’re worth it…

You’re in the PERFECT place to claim a new life.

If you’re at the end of your rope, grab on to the knot – help and support – and it will become a ladder that leads you into a new life.

Recovery is so flippin’ Beautiful and REAL. And it’s perfect for YOU. It’s not for other people, it’s for you. So that you can have the life you deserve.

I think of my AOL sisters from time to time; the ones who didn’t make it out. I wonder where they would be now, if they just didn’t pick up a drink that day. I suspect at the heart of it, they didn’t believe they were worthy of a better, sober life.

So I’m just writing this today to tell you that you’re worth it.

Please out resources and help. There is no shame in asking for help. And do whatever it takes to live the recovery life. Glom onto it, obsess about recovery just as you have the drink.

We already know how to be obsessed; find out what switching obsessions can do for you (and the people who love you.)

Find out what truly makes YOU tick, because I guarantee you’re fascinating in ways you don’t even know yet. I’ll bet you’ve forgotten who you truly are, while in your addiction. Life is hard, but also so good. I promise. You can do this.

God bless us, every one.

Poetry · Spiritual

Mystics, Sages (and a love for the Ages) – poetry

Featured Jana GreeneLeave a comment

This piece is a labor of love.
Life is so heavy right now. I choose to believe that God is up to his old tricks or radical grace and wonder. I just have to keep choosing that every day, sometimes moment by moment.

By: JANA GREENE

Give me the mystics,

The seekers,

The sages.

And as we study

our sacred pages

for wisdom to guide

our every foot-fall,

“Love one another” is

Most important is all.

Focus on each blessing,

Always favor light,

Keep sharing your heart,

And I’ll keep sharing mine.

Let us choose to believe

that in the end,

God is up to his radical

goodness again.

Love always swings harder,

Love conquers all,

Love comes in first.

survives every fall.

So I stay Hopeful as a hippie,

in this war-torn place,

As open as a Book

About this deep and messy grace.

May the secrets

Of the enlightened wise,

Be generous

To our wondering eyes.

Let us dare to ask questions,

Beyond any fear.

So you say you have doubts?

Well, you’re welcome here!

Yes, give me the mystics,

The seekers the sages,

And they will direct you

To a Love for the ages.

A perfect love,

For all the ages.

Spiritual

Speak Up, Child

December 12, 2022December 12, 2022 Jana Greene2 Comments

By: JANA GREENE

I speak up for myself now.
Well, sometimes.
As long as it doesn’t rock the boat TOO much.
As long as the person I have conflict with won’t stop loving me because I’m mad.
Only when I’ve rolled the issue OVER and OVER I’m my brain ad nauseam and have decided I’m with a safe person.
Only after I’ve played out the worst case scenario in my head, mini-grieved all possible outcomes.
At times, after I speak my peace, (because I’ve learned my peace has value, too,) I will fret and worry that I’ve upset someone.
Doesn’t matter if it concerns life events or little frustrations, I speak.
Even if it’s a whisper, I speak.
Even though I know assertion-guilt will try to make me feel like a bad human.
I’m starting – with fits and stops – to say when I’ve been hurt or bothered, even though I’ve been a people pleaser all my life.
So…
No,
You cannot talk to me like that. You may not treat me like that.
Little Me had no say, but I’m re-parenting her, you see. I’m protecting her. I care what she has to say. Her feelings, views, and passions have value.
I’m teaching her things that I (somehow managed) to teach my own daughters.
They speak up for themselves, without fear of abandonment, because they know they’re safe.
And Little Me is safe now too, finding her voice and using it. Progress, not perfection.

God bless us, every one.

Spiritual

I’m not a Proverbs 31 Woman (and I’m okay with that)

November 3, 2022November 3, 2022 Jana Greene7 Comments

By: JANA GREENE

I once had a friend many years ago who embodied what I thought at the time was spiritual perfection.

She was, you see, a “Proverbs 31 woman” to the bone.

In my zeal to be like her (and thus, presumably like Jesus?) I kind of lost myself. Which is what many churchy folk will tell you is the whole point of being one. You’re supposed to lose your identity, or at the very least tweak it.

If you’re not familiar with the reference, it comes from the verse by the same name in the Bible and has become the litmus test of judging a woman’s “true” worth:

“….good woman is hard to find, and worth far more than diamonds. Her husband trusts her without reserve, and never has reason to regret it. She is never spiteful, she treats him generously all her life long. She shops around for the best yarns and cottons, and enjoys knitting and sewing….”

You get the gist of it.

I tried to emulate my angelic friend, which was problematic because it kept me feeling in a state of less than.

She was soft-spoken, where my nature is boisterous.

She was serene where I am neurotic.

She never cussed and I hold fast to my peppery language.

She was crafty and talented, but super meek and humble about it. She never raised her voice. She always had devotional time with the Lord every morning before all else. It would not surprise me in the least if Jesus sent actual sunbeams to fall in the pages as she read and kept her coffee miraculously piping hot until she is done. (That’s how valuable the studies and prayers are of a Proverbs 31 woman, according to lore.)

But here’s the thing: She hasn’t had my experiences in life either. To be fair, humans are complicated and wonky (I believe that’s the scientific term.) We are all unique and as such, God doesn’t expect us to be all the same.

My friend had never battled addiction, and was certainly never a slave to the bottle.

Or been rejected by her own family.

She hadn’t experienced abuse as a child.

Her kids never got into any trouble growing up, and are pillars of the community.

She represented everything the church expected of me that I was unable to be, and everything they expected me to give that I couldn’t muster.

I’m more than the sum of what’s happened to me, and so are you. But what’s happened to us inspires our outlook on life – even our outlook on God.

You see, I am not “less than” a Proverbs 31 woman.

I am much more than more than who I used to be. And that’s the only comparing we should be doing as women – contrast ourselves with our past behaviors so that we can better ourselves.

I am simply a person who has collected trauma after trauma and made the conscious effort to overcome on a daily basis. True, I am not my saintly friend, but growth trumps the illusion of perfection any day.

My Creator is not dissatisfied with me for not being her, or the legions of “hers” all through Christendom.

Authenticity over antiquated expectations.

Relationship with God over rules and regulations.

Raw-dogging life with an open mind and heart.

Because I’m not sure a good woman is hard to find, but I am sure she probably has some sass. And I’m sure that setting unrealistic expectations behooves neither male or female; husband or wife.

Spicy girls, don’t despair. God loves you exactly the way he made you – giving you the same leeway to be imperfect that he apparently has afforded men all along.

Have a beautiful day, loves.

Spiritual

God Favors us ALL (and Kindness is how we Let People Know it)

September 4, 2022September 4, 2022 Jana GreeneLeave a comment

By: JANA GREENE

My concept of God as love means there’s no need to “smite my enemies.” Because our Source Is not on anyone’s “team;” he’s the owner and manager, working things to your benefit – but to theirs, also.
We think people who have wronged us deserve wrath, and plead God to avenge us, only to demand forgiveness when we have wronged others. And it’s taken me years to accept that “if God is for me, who can be against me?” applies to every human, everywhere, who is lugging a body around on this plane of existence.
More and more, I think this place is a University of sorts. We are here to learn how to love each other and how to love God, because obviously we still haven’t gotten the lesson. That’s okay. Everything in good time. Our Earth Suits (janky as mine may be) are vehicles and vehicles only. I forget that sometimes when they pain gets unbearable.
And our assignment, I think, is to retain our kindness through the shitstorm, er, um…journey. Kindness does beautiful things to otherwise very negative people. If we do this leg of our journey and stay kind, that kindness chemically and spiritually changes a person. And if it doesn’t? You’ve ventured everything for love, and will have many more opportunities. We are all trying to figure out hard stuff here.
That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.
Love to all today!

Poetry · Spiritual

Ballad of a Mid-Life Mama

July 4, 2022 Jana GreeneLeave a comment

By: JANA GREENE

What does the REAL me want in life?

I’d never thought to ask.

I forgot all about myself

While busy with the tasks

Of raising daughters

And leading daughters

As they were growing strong.

Did I stop to ask myself

For what my own heart longed?

No, I did the right thing

At the time…

I fixated on their wellness.

I hovered and fussed,

I tried to hand them over

To God in trust,

And somewhere in those precious years

I had a little inner-strife,

Because I couldn’t tell you

What I want for my own life.

But ladies?

Ah, now is the time,

To meet this a super Amazing Queen.

The one who looks you in the mirror,

The holder of your dreams,

And take the time to

Ask her plenty

What makes HER heart soar?

Hover and fuss over her some,

Then fuss over her some more.

My mid-life mamas everywhere,

Step into your new dreams,

And be who you were born to be –

A super, amazing Queen.

Poetry · Spiritual

You’re Already Whole

May 10, 2022May 10, 2022 Jana GreeneLeave a comment

BY: Jana Greene

I used to tell people,
“God can fix you.”
But now I say,
You’re not broken.
You are not bad.
You don’t need fixing.
You need loving.
Love put you back together,

On the day You breathed your first.
You already have it on-board.
God already inhabits you.
In every loving gesture you express
To humankind (or animal-kind.)
In every breath, holiness.
In every feeling of fresh hope,
In every laugh, sacred joy.
You are whole.
You are not broken,
No matter the evidence
Stacked against you. Keep your head up!
God is FOR you.
You are loved.

Blessed be.

Spiritual

Easter in the Raw

April 17, 2022April 17, 2022 Jana Greene1 Comment

By: JANA GREENE

Happy Easter. I don’t want to be that person who bums everybody out with their posts of grief, but I have to tell you this Easter feels more like death than resurrection.

It’s raw.

I’m raw.

Death is present and lurking, but the joke’s on Death, because it’s defeated. It is finished. But Death – and about 8 billion other voices, if you give them credence – will tell you otherwise.

It is finished, even if we have to live in a broken world.

It’s is finished, meaning our suffering here is not part and parcel of who we are. We don’t take it with us. Only love travels that well.

It is finished, even when our hearts lurch with missing someone so badly it physically hurts.

It is finished, even though the sticky residue of suffering gums up the works, and the whole damn planet seems to have lost its collective mind.

I won’t ask, “Death, where is your sting?” because I call BS on that. It stings like Hell. It hurts like a mother-*. I’m not going to deny the pain of being human just to sell you on Pollyanna positivity. I’m certainly not going to sell you religion, which professes to have all the answers but I assure you, does not.

But Death, after the sting, is never the victor.
Our spirits outlive Death. Nothing can keep us from the love of God. Not even ourselves.

He is risen, friends.

And I’m telling you that with a puffy frog-face from crying, unbrushed hair, balled fists, a heart full of questioning incredulousness, and deep pain. I’m writing this because maybe you’re hurting too.

Maybe you’re pissed off, and for good reason. Maybe you’re sick and feel hopeless. I just want to remind you that you are also risen.

Risen is by far more your identity than broken, or even dead.

Sometimes resurrection doesn’t look like glorious renderings of an ancient, empty tomb – beams of light streaming from within, all CBN Network-style.

Sometimes it looks just like you- in all your holy, grieving glory. Slogging through the messy inconveniences and crippling agonies of life, interspersed with great bursts of love and laughter. All of us redeemed ragamuffin kids of God, all of us made of stardust, mud, and love.

God bless us, every one.