Shower brilliance

Okay, maybe not brilliance, but I think a good thought. 

Yesterday, I met with Al - in fact, we spend the morning together.  It was good, although I think we both felt we were walking on thin ice.  And, near the end, I fell through it.  (Don't I wish this were other than a metaphor!  It's sweltering hot here.)

I do love to give advice.  I've always been a strong personality, although not necessarily the "fixer" so often attributed to alcoholic family members.  But I do have a tendency to take charge, and have to consciously put brakes on myself to prevent myself from taking too much charge in any given situation, be it work, social, family, or other.  But what Al-Anon is teaching me (or trying to, at least) is that the alcoholic in our lives has to make decisions for him/herself.  This, of course, is the old immovable force (Al) meeting the unstoppable object (me).  Example:  Al is out of a job.  I wonder whether his unemployment is his biggest issue, but it's clearly important to him, so I have some (many!) ideas on how to approach his joblessness.  I've given them before.  And yesterday, despite Al-Anon (in fact, prefaced with the "I know I shouldn't give you advice, but . . . .") I gave him employment advice.  Non-critically (at least I don't think I was critical), but he immediately picked up on it, and reminded me I shouldn't be doing it.  He was right. 

But . . . I'm a good advice giver.  I've got good ideas, and my research skills are solid.  I do think I could help him.  If only he'd listen to me.  The Al-Anon conundrum:  I must learn to keep my mouth shut, even though I think that opening it would help us both. 

This morning - in the shower, of course, where I do my best thinking - I thought of a possible solution to this issue.  Rather than telling Al what I think he should be doing, I need to ask Al if he'd like my assistance in the various areas that I think I might be helpful.  And, dammit, I have to listen to and honor his response, regardless of what that might be.

I'm going to try to introduce this approach into our relationship.  I know I'll fall off from time to time - decades of being bossy (indeed, even making a career of it!) don't go away overnight.  But oftentimes acknowledgement and recognition of a problem is the first step to solving it.

Let's hope it works.  Let's hope I can work it.