The Studio: Sandy Fifield

“The Big Lumps”–Sandy

“Then perhaps life, as it has a way of doing, suddenly hands us a great big lump that we can’t begin to swallow, let alone digest… What then?… Can we transform these calamities into assets, sources of growth and comfort to ourselves and those about us?” The Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, page 113

Well, this last week has been the down and dirty of this process that started with the diagnosis of a brain tumor in Bill’s head over a month ago. To watch the man you have loved for 47 years drained of strength, to see him lying there helpless, with no hair, radiation burns on his forehead, his heart racing at 166 bpm, short of breath; it becomes clear, too clear that this is serious and life threatening.

The first go round with the discovery of the brain tumor and lung cancer was almost glamorous compared with this reality. His whole being has been beaten down by twelve days of whole brain radiation, the withdrawal from the anti-seizure and steroid meds and recovery from brain surgery one month earlier. What next? How about a massive blood clot in his left leg? How about embolisms in both lungs? These put him flat on his back in Critical Care for seven days, IV tubes in both arms, a heart monitor and oxygen tubes in his nose.

Enlightened Communication

A famous New Yorker cartoon shows a woman sitting on a couch with a man standing next to her talking to a policeman taking notes. There is pair of legs sticking out from behind the couch. The caption says: “He misspoke, I miss heard, shots rang out.” How do I stand a chance if I can’t even hear you? I didn’t know I couldn’t hear you. I didn’t know with whom I was relating. It turns out there are three places I could be possibly coming from: my conscious, my unconscious, or my ego. The same goes for you. So there are at least six entities in every interaction. In my experience, good communication happens mostly by accident.

A Gift Wrapped in Barbed Wire

It started out as a weird god’s-eye shaped floater in the left of my field of vision and turned into a brain tumor and lung cancer in a mere three days. I had gone to my doctor, who referred me to an eye specialist to find out where this irritating thing came from. Next he’s shining a very bright light into my right eye “Lookup, look down, look side to side” he asks. Then he says, “My, my, the viscous has pulled away from the orb, collapsing with the mesh that holds it. What you are seeing is the mesh becoming visible as it contracts—in other words, a floater” I ask, “What can we do about that? It’s right in the middle of where I look, kind of an inconvenience for an artist.” The good doc replies, “Well you are lucky it didn’t pull the cornea off with it or you would be blind. It could go away in three days or it could take three months to float to the bottom of your eye.” Good grief, he sounded like the phone repair guy: “Stay by your phone and we will be there sometime this year!”

THE DOUBLE-EDGED SWORD, WHEN THE OBSESSION WAS LIFTED

I not only didn’t know what alcoholism was, I didn’t know it was a double-edged sword that could cut me to ribbons. First I would get an urge to drink that started with a thought, then that thought grew and grew until it became insanity. Insanity? Yes, because this obsession will lead to a drink, that leads to a drug and once I put it in me, I have no choice. I can’t and won’t stop.

It’s called a craving. It’s a physical thing as with heroin, cigarettes or any other addictive behavior or substance. So, the double-edged sword is the craving plus the obsession. If I stop putting it in me the craving will leave my system in about a week. How is this possible? My thinking continuously drags me into the whirlpool! I’ve got to change my thinking, but how?

“The Portals of Creation”

Art has always been magical to me even as a child. I remember watching my dad paint. I watched the images appear as he sipped his Swiss Colony sauterne. It was like being in an alchemist’s workshop; there was secret and forbidden knowledge. He seemed to be able to go places nobody else did; he stood at the portals of creation.

There was never any doubt in my mind about what I wanted to do and be. Being able to stand at the portals of creation without fear seemed to be the trick. I didn’t realize until much later that he gave that gift to me very early on. The way it looked to me was that alcohol fueled and was necessary to the process. At first it worked beautifully and when drugs entered the equation, I went even further out—right on the razors edge. The Universe was laid out before me. Everything I saw and read reinforced this belief. Look at all the awesome psychedelic art pouring out of the hippies. There were paintings, sculptures, posters, crafts, music, and performance. And look at history—Jackson Pollack, Gauguin, and Toulouse-Lautrec, all great artists and drunks. And–the most compelling evidence of all–my own studio full of incredible works of art.

“The Gift of Sponsorship”

“Love is seeing yourself in another without fear”

When my sponsor and I started into the 12 Steps, she gave me a carefully defined set of assignments. I became extremely grateful for the set of guidelines she provided for me. I needed definite directions because I was undisciplined and scattered. My thought processes were vague and mushy. Part of this problem was because I was withdrawing from an addiction I had indulged in for years and part came from the fact that I hadn’t focused on learning anything new for quite a while. Not everyone needs this and there are many ways to sponsor a newcomer or even someone who has been around for a while, but I sure did.

When I asked her to be my sponsor, I requested that she teach me a way to pass this on to others. I had become convinced that if I didn’t learn to pass this on, I would not be allowed to continue to come to the meetings. Thank God, this is not true, but it was enough to force me into asking for help. I then asked what I could do to pay her back for this and she told me that the only way I would be able to repay her was to make the effort to pass this on to at least one other person. I agreed because I really needed her help to change my life and I had come to believe that the 12 Steps might just work for me. Even though I had asked and had been told, I still did not realize the commitment she was making to me or the commitment I was making and how it would change my attitude and outlook on life.

“A ratty old magpie feather.”

After Bill found the ratty old black and white magpie feather on the walk at Harmony Foundation, he found at least one feather a day for nearly 90 days.

After he got out of Harmony, Sandy joined him in this discovery. We found hummingbird feathers, red-tail hawk feathers, flicker, blue bird, robin, sparrow, finch and even turkey vulture feathers. They seemed to be everywhere. Then at the end of 90 days we found a dead bird. It was the Universe saying, “ OK, you have enough feathers to make your own bird, now look up, go out from here and be the gift, help others and open the doors to understanding for them.”

“The Beginnings of an Awakening”

How did I feel knowing that I drank and did drugs, yet Bill was the one who went into Rehab? As the intervention I had planned unfolded, I believe I was unaware of what this really meant. My basic thought at the time was that I wanted to save Bill’s life.

It had become obvious even to me that he was out of control. I knew he was drinking the whole time I was at work. He was driving to the liquor store and bars under the influence and it seemed only a matter of time before something tragic would happen. I, however, was still able to go to work and I had taken control of everything I could in a desperate attempt to prove that everything was okay in my house. It seemed apparent to me, Bill, and everyone else that I had no problem with drugs or alcohol, therefore, I did not need rehab though Bill certainly did. I hoped that if he could regain control, we could get back to our lives and continue to use drugs and alcohol moderately. All my problems would be solved.

“What are your magic words?”

Everyone has “magic words” that can produce a moment of clarity; sometimes they come from our innermost selves and at other times they may be uttered by another human being. They are as unique and elusive as a butterfly but in every human there is an understanding of life and survival waiting to be heard.

When the interventionist said the magic words: “We know what’s been going on.”, the lie I had been living just fell apart. My life was like a castle of sand held together with gray tape and old 2 x 4’s; it just couldn’t last. The horrible truth leapt into focus at that moment. I somehow knew if I didn’t grab this opportunity, something truly disastrous was going to happen. Somebody was going to die and it probably wouldn’t be me. So, when asked if I wanted to go into treatment/rehab, I opened my mouth and out came, “Okay”.