Step 4 in the 12 Steps is make an inventory. Initially, when I first read this, my capitalistic business brain thought this is not unlike quality control, SWOT goals, and lists I’ve built through the years. I mean, this blog is bursting with lists, right?
But this list hit different. Inventories, in recovery, take ownership. And it’s not about pride. It’s about service instead. Boy oh boy, these reframes are difficult because they force awareness on whys:
- Making such an inventory is not about how my body somehow loves that natural 5am wakeup… But maybe I can change this odd mix of pride and confusion and acknowledge that I waited an hour to open the computer. And also share that for the last few days, I stewed on what “I” word to include, as today’s the 10th, and this promised monthly “experiment” series is not going to publish itself.
- Likewise, my inventory is not about how my coffee is ready to be pressed. Instead, I am thankful that I hydrated first. And I am also thankful that I learned how to use this French Press. (Coffee clutch coming in clutch indeed!)
- And last, these inventories are not about that I just submitted my last final presentation of the quarter less than 12 hours ago. But instead, I feel empowered, that I worked on the last assignment over the course of a few days, instead of rushing. And I am also grateful to not have worked on it alone, even calling the project manager first to see her opinion.
In this inventory work, I hope to check ego and try to find service instead. Inventories examine my role(s) in both harms and benefits, successes and struggles, running and roadblocking. This claims ownership: I. Did. That.
These lists allow more than pride to talk. I hope to glean perspective on my personality traits, my predispositions, and my paths. As an empathetic INFJ, I tend to feel all of the things yet isolate when those feelings get big. And sometimes those feelings aren’t helpful or true, like biases informing directions.
The more I learn about myself, the more I realize that I find a sneaky sense of finding satisfaction in… cleverness, uniqueness, and can-do-it-all-ness. I think an inventory looks more at attitudes than actions.
For example, I have learned that cleverness, often through written or spoken word, is a double-edged sword. And I have used this tool for years. And even have gotten praised/rewarded for it. Yet cleverness is covert persuasion, to myself and others. I tell myself I own the story, kinda like my goal of reclaiming my story last month. But cleverness for its own sake does not help anyone.
A personal inventory looks at why I slip into this trait of cleverness and takes responsibility for this (predisposed?) pattern. And me owning this character defect(?) is not only in the action of being clever, but in how this influences feelings (of myself and others), and what happens after.
As I emotionally and physically process this character trait, I think my cleverness is actually me brushing off pain. By speaking in metaphor or via joke, I want to be praised. Or I want feel something different than the current reality. As an introvert, it is a little soul-sucky: This penchant for being “on” through cleverness happens when I feel the stimulus that caused my cleverness feels harmful or too vulnerable. And so, I harm through not truly owning the story. Cleverness, while sometimes funny or useful, means I am not being fully present. And that is who I strive to be. Not smart, unique, on, clever. Present.
Therefore, I want to courageously step into finding these patterns through making daily inventories. It takes grace, too, not just vulnerability, to self-examine. I’ll ask: Who am I, as a person, and how do my behavior patterns and personality traits influence or prevent me from being the most me?
Sure, there’s a ton I am proud of, too. I’ll make space in the daily inventory for those feelings and responses. For example, here are a few inventory examples from the last few days:
- I have had fearless conversations on sobriety with someone from church, a colleague, my hair stylist, and I hope to do so again tonight, after my last class of the quarter. These conversations are especially true and even holy when feedback is mutual.
- There was a little friction this weekend over balancing unmet needs like funds, food, emotions, and time. I am proud of myself for facing this temporary imbalance head-on. By giving space for reflection and apologies, I did not hide or hold onto the feelings. (And remembered and celebrated Grandma over pancakes, too.)
- Sharing these thoughts on this website is vulnerable but necessary. Honestly, I am getting emotional as I write this, leaving the post unedited.
Seeking curiosity and compassion, these words are helping me slowly open up. I don’t seek “likes” or “follows” here. Instead, I continue to share these experiments to express who I am, as the author of my story, and who I am becoming. Reclaiming my story is a refrain you’ll hear/read for a long time. It’s been healing as I release these words, because the stories are no longer just mine. We are more alike than not. So, go forth. Be you. And know you’re not alone. Thanks for being here.