Quest for Quiet

Iused to meditate years ago. There were always three or four things I had to do, all of which bounced around in my mind like a pinball machine, and I had to try to slow down.

Once I started the Food Addicts in Recover y Anonymous (FA) program, I knew 30 minutes of quiet time was a tool that was essential for maintaining my abstinence and moving on the path to recovery. But I didn’t believe in God, and I didn’t relish the idea of sitting and doing nothing. I had tried. There was another problem. I was using my smartphone as my timer and had it sitting next to me on the couch. The time was ticking down, but the emails were coming in, too. I kept thinking, I’ll just read the emails, and maybe check on one or two things on the web. I was restless and distracted, and then I felt guilty for not

It feels like a safe refuge to sink into—relaxing, knowing this is part of learning how to ask for help and how to be present, not thinking about the future, not judging, and just being. doing the tools. My eyes would blink. My body would move around. The dog needed attention. My feet were cold.

I talked to my sponsor about it, and that helped. I also read some literature. “Just for today, I will have a quiet half hour all by myselfand relax.” Noticing the word “relax” for the first time, I tried to relax. “Relax,” I would admonish myself.

I made some progress, but still had trouble. One morning, I scurriedaround doing things, and then realized I only had 30 minutes to read the Twenty-Four Hours a Day book and do my quiet time. I ended up with just 27 minutes of quiet time. That seemed close enough for me.

I told my sponsor I would set the timer on my phone and then leave it on a table, out of reach during quiet time. My sponsor and I talked about how doing what you say you are going to do is part of the recovery program, so I did it.

I think that’s where the “surrendering” part of the program comes in; to let go and just do it.

Taking quiet time, knowing I have 30 minutes just to sit there, calms me down. It feels like a safe refuge to sink into—relaxing, knowing this is part of learning how to ask for help and how to be present, not thinking about the future, not judging, and just being. There is a Buddhist teaching, “When we quiet the mind, the heart opens.” That seems to be what is happening to me. Peace and serenity come through working the tools, exactly as they are given to us.