Delete Forever

I sent an email to a friend yesterday reminding him of a humorous episode that took place in his life many years ago.  I also commented about the weather, which is really, really nice where I'm staying at the moment.   REALLY nice.  I have been complaining about cold weather my entire life.  It is the most ancient of my ancient-ist topics.  I get cold easily; I hate being cold; I hate snow - in fact, one of the main goals in my life is to never, ever touch snow ever again.  I carry a flame thrower around in a backpack so I can melt any snow that comes within 100 yards of me.  I curse audibly when I see snow on distant mountaintops.  Most people believe that hell is very, very hot - I call that an excellent vacation spot.  I'd be in hell wandering around looking for the thermostat to turn up the heat.

"Can I at least get a jacket?" I'd respond, if the demon who was in control of the HVAC system told me to go back to my fiery pit of molten lava.  "It's $#!! freezing in here."

Hell for me would be like Siberia or North Dakota.

This guy responded with some comments about my life style.  He called me an Epicurean.  I believe that means an individual who spends all of his time seeking carnal, sensual pleasures: food, touch, weather.  First of all, I thought: "Yeah, no shit."  I'm an alcoholic.  I spent my entire life trying to avoid pain and maximize pleasure.  That was the entire purpose of being alive to my thinking.  

Then I thought: "WTF?"  I don't see myself that way at all.  Don't get me wrong: I like comfort as much as the next guy but you people have taught me that if I'm not living a life of service to other people and seeking to grow my spiritual life I'm not making much progress in growing as a person.  And I didn't really see why my email generated this kind of critical comment.

So I sat down and wrote a blistering response, which I did not send; something about "restraint of tongue and pen" is stuck in my consciousness.  I looked at my note again in a few minutes and deleted the whole pissed, vindictive mess.  I did keep the original email from my friend, figuring  that I could put something together when I wasn't so angry.  After a few more minutes I deleted it  - using the "Delete Forever?" option - forever.  I knew nothing good was going to come from that thread.  It was a train wreck waiting to happen, waiting for me to stride into action with all kinds of justified anger.

I come back to the old saying: "Who has The Program?"  I said it before SuperK brought it up.  I said it before I called my sponsor.  I know deep down that this has nothing to do with me - I'm betting my friend is in an uncomfortable spot and I happened to be a target of convenience.  And I know that I need to write and reflect on the content of his response; for me to get so angry suggests that the thrust and parry got close to some fact or truth about my own life that I'm not entirely comfortable with.