Isolation

Isolation:  (medicine) The separation of a patient, suffering from a contagious disease, from contact with others; the state of being away from other people.

I'm sure that I've written down the following quote before but it seems to apply on an almost daily basis.

"For one thing, we shall get rid of that terrible sense of isolation we've always had.  Almost without exception alcoholics are tortured by loneliness.  . . . nearly all of us suffered the feeling that we didn't quite belong."

Somewhere in the literature is the comment that we either tried to climb to the top of the heap, braying about our greatness to anyone within earshot, or we tried to burrow under the entire mountain itself, certain that we were worthless pieces of &*%!!.

The leader of our meeting this morning read a quote from our text - one of many such references - that emphasizes the importance of developing some kind of relationship with a Higher Power.  This is not an easy task for most of us - we don't believe in god or we don't know how to believe in god or we believed in god at one point before we decided that god was a prick and he could go &*%!! himself.  The conversation veered into a discussion of how isolating our drinking invariably became and how effectively this shut us off from any real connection to god.  Lots of us initially get a handle on the higher power thing by talking with people of all kinds of belief systems.  Drinking cut me off from people and from my higher power.  I'm not sure which connection I re-established first.  They probably went hand in hand but I do know that one on one communication is awfully helpful.

And one of the members talked about still feeling isolated in recovery.  She shared a story about her sponsor that - were cross-talk not frowned upon - made me ponder suggesting that she fire the jerk and find someone kinder.  Most of the people in The Fellowship are good folks but we wouldn't be worth our weight in salt if we didn't have a jerk or two present as well, yours truly included from time to time.  This doesn't mean that I should expect to be isolated from advice that I don't like - my friends should feel comfortable speaking their minds to me or I can hardly consider them true friends.  It does mean that a gentle pat is preferable to a big hammer.

Heart Full of Soul

Soul:  The spirit or essence of a person usually thought to consist of one's thoughts and personality.  Often thought to live on after a person's death.

Mind: The ability for rational thought; the ability to be aware of things. 

Brain:  The part of a machine or computer that performs calculations.

More meditation.  I practice often and still suck at it - this means I don't have a good grasp of what it actually is.

Do it.  Don't judge how it comes out.  Don't try to control it.  Don't worry about doing it well or doing it poorly - just do it.  Count your breaths.  Pay attention to how your physical body moves - chest, belly, shoulders.  Feel how your body is connected to the earth.  Take a good look at the instant between the inhale and the exhale - there may be a lot of stuff in that little pause.  

Your mind is going to wander and that's OK - in fact, it's perfectly normal.  The mind is programmed to think so that's what it does - it thinks.  It doesn't like to be told to settle down.
Sometimes I have to laugh at the battle that goes on between what I'm thinking and who I am.  My mind is constantly trying to run off and take my spirit with it, like a little child trying to get her mother's attention.

Look at me!  I'm having a sexual fantasy!  Isn't this a lot more fun that feeling your assbone connect with Mother Earth?

Some More Stuff . . .

We reviewed our fears thoroughly.  We put them on paper, even though we had no resentment in connection with them.

The minute I stopped fighting or arguing I could begin to see and feel. 

Pray for a release from these fears.   "We had not even prayed rightly. . . We had always said Grant me my wishes instead of Your will be done.  At no time had we asked what god's will was for us; instead we had been telling him what it ought to be.  It is when we try to make our will conform with god's that we begin to use it rightly.  Our whole trouble had been the misuse of willpower.  We had tried to bombard our problems with it instead of attempting to bring it into agreement with god's intention for us.

I'm not sure where I am with my fear of physical decline.  I'm still plagued by an overemphasis on what doesn't feel great.  What doesn't feel perfect.  This doesn't seem to be too reasonable an attitude, in the understatement of the day.

Here are my preconceived notions that I have about aging; namely, that it's all about loss and decline, when in reality it's all about acceptance and gratitude.

Some pain acceptance is going to be a good thing.  It's a fact of life that there is going to be decline - I've been experiencing it in a non-catastrophic way over the last twenty years.  Some decline is going to be inevitable.  Something is going to get me.

  
Gratitude
An extensive study was done where a group of people was asked to record their thoughts about gratitude while another group wrote down the stuff that annoyed them.  The results?  The group that kept a Gratitude List began to report a greater sense of optimism and well-being, and the effects actually began to show up in their blood pressure and heart rate and sleep patterns. The longer the gratitude people persisted at this exercise the the more pronounced the results.

One important caveat must be pointed out:  "It was not enough to be conscious of one's advantages; one had to be grateful for them.  Advantages alone - even awareness of them - weren't enough, perhaps because they can be lost.  Gratitude, on the other hand, was an affirmation that the world gave you things, and might continue to do so."

Happiness

Happiness shouldn't require effort on my part, and it should come as a kind of peace.  All I have to do is sit back and let it wash over me.  Life gives me what I need if I'm wise enough to see that.

Here's the strategy: spend my time and energy on the things that give me satisfaction, not lamenting those that I could once do - or experience - but now can't.  "Selective optimization with compensation:" make the most of what I have and compensate for what I've lost.

Happiness is not something to go out and seize.  Happiness is taking satisfaction in what is available right now, not hitching it to the future.  Too often my definition of happiness looks forward.  The future is tricky - the future might not come.

"I don’t understand happiness only as someone just always smiling and laughing.  It’s more like inner happiness, where you feel you have done everything right in your life, you haven’t made anybody unhappy.  You have a certain kind of peace and balance in yourself, and you are not anxious about what will happen the next minute or the next day.  You let it go and you don’t worry, and you lead a balanced life.  If you want the next moment where everything will be better, then you’d better do this moment right.  People often asked him if he was happy, he said, and his response was always the same: of course he was.

Live in the Moment

I won’t think about what I have to do - I'm just going to do it, hoping that’s what my fate is.  If I have any problems that emerge I'm going to try to leave them alone for now, let time work on it.  I shouldn’t dwell on anything that's problematic - I'm going to try to leave it alone and as time goes along see if it straightens out by itself.  I cannot deal with it, so you, god, now it’s your job.  You work on it and I'll do something else.  And usually they do it.  Trust—that’s what I advise if anyone asks.  You have to trust your higher power.”

It never occurred to us that we needed to change ourselves to meet conditions, whatever they were.

Sense of Purpose

Those with a sense of purpose had deteriorated little in their memory scores even when the cellular damage in the brain was identical to those with dementia.

Becca R. Levy, a psychiatrist at Yale, has found striking correlations between people’s attitudes toward old age and how they fare in their later years, with effects starting as early as middle age. In one study, those who had more positive views of old age, measured by how they answered the question, “When you think of old persons, what are your impressions?" tend to experience more happiness as they age.

Not Too Good With People

"Or if my disturbance was seemingly caused by the behavior of others, why do I lack the ability to accept conditions I cannot change?"

Because it's a hell of a lot easier blaming someone or something else for my problems.  It's not me - it's you.

"But it is from our twisted relations with family, friends, and society at large that many of us have suffered the most.  The primary fact that we fail to recognize is our total inability to form a true partnership with another human being."

Total:  Complete; absolute; entire.
Inability:  Lack of the ability to do something.

Note here that the suggestion is that we are unable to form a normal relationship with another person.  Any other person.  There is no nuance to the word "total."

"We have not once sought to be one in a family, to be a friend among friends, to be a worker among workers, to be a useful member of society.  Always we tried to struggle to the top of the heap, or to hide beneath it.  This self-centered behavior blocked a partnership relation with any one of those about us.  Of true brotherhood we had small comprehension."

Well, at least there's the implication that we may have  a tiny ability to brother up.   A bit larger than non-existent but still barely measurable.

An egomaniac with an inferiority complex.
I may not be much but I'm all I think about.
Enough about me - what do you think about me?
I may be a piece of shit but I'm still better than you.

Enough and Intense

Enough:  A sufficient amount, number, etc.

The day is complete as it is.  I have nothing left to do.  I did some things and I didn't need to do any more things.  It's enough things already.  I can always make my list of things longer so that I'll never get all of them done, but what's the point of that?  I think The Little Man is feeling my vibe right now and he's digging it.  Do as much as you can - shoot high - but rest easy in your mind when you don't get it all done.  There's always going to be more shit to do.

Intense:  Strained; tightly drawn; extreme in degree; excessive.

I assume there are some easy-going people in The Program but I haven't run into any of them yet.  They must be attending meetings elsewhere.  I used to think my approach to life was mellow and low-key until someone pointed out that I was just stoned.  That's not low-key - that's out of it.  We are generally all-or-nothing people, perfectionists, intense, never satisfied.

It's enough today already.

The Horse's Ass

There's a young guy at my morning meeting who shares frequently about how no one else in the world drives as well as he does.  He's pretty funny most of the time but he can occasionally go off the deep end, yelling at people, following them down the highway, stupid stuff like that.  I give him a lot of shit about it.  He knows he's acting like an idiot - a dangerous idiot - but he still slips into this behavior from time to time.  Hopefully what happens is that he'll begin to behave this way more infrequently when he sees that he's the person being harmed.  I used to think that other drivers were doing things to me - Stevie Seaweed - specifically targeting me.  This is ridiculous of course - I am a faceless being in a vehicle impeding someone else's progress.  It took me a long time but I eventually got to the point where I don't really care about other drivers as long as I'm driving competently and they're not endangering me.  Because I've progressed to this high level of spiritual development I rub it in my buddy's face mercilessly.

So there's this man at my swim club who loudly presents his deranged political views in the locker room to anyone and everyone within earshot.  He's almost shouting.  I know his type, an inflexible ideologue who is only interested in telling you how it is.  You can agree with him or you can argue with him, secure in the knowledge that no amount of reason or wisdom will change his mind.  Normally I don't even allow him to catch my eye.  I really don't care what he thinks and I really don't care to argue with him.  I have enough trouble maintaining my serenity without getting into a political squabble with some horse's ass.

Yesterday he cornered me and went off on a passionate, weird riff about global warming.  I decided to engage - lightly, I thought.  I tossed off some platitude about trying to find a middle ground in most of the things that I do.

Good luck with THAT," he spat at me.

Man, if someone thinks that balance is a bad idea . . . that's not someone to talk to.  Nonetheless, we bickered for a couple of minutes before he slunk into the steam room, mumbling "good luck with that" over and over.

I have replayed this bicker in my mind over the last 24 hours.  Mind you, I don't give a whit about this guy and I knew that any conversation with him was going to end poorly, but I did it anyway.  I needed to be right.

There's a lesson for me in here somewhere.

It's Enough, Already

Enough:   Sufficient; all that is required, needed, or appropriate.

One of my hot tub friends at my swim club is a little old guy who's there every day.  We laugh about politics and imply that we're better than everyone else in a friendly, tongue-in-cheek way.  He does.  I really DO think I'm better than everyone else.

I asked about his weekend.  He said he took it easy and watched some sports on The Television.  Football, specifically.  I told him that I used to pay more attention to football but in this day of hyper-commercialization the length of the games has gotten longer and longer to accommodate all of the commercials and coach's challenges and replays and the like.  The games used to take three hours - today they bump up against the four hour mark, and that's too long for me.

He laughed: "So they take four hours.  What do I have to do that's so important?"

I loved that.  He has to be every bit of 85 years old and he's gotten to the place that he doesn't have to get everything done all of the time.  I think about stuff I wanted to do yesterday and didn't, and that this leaves me feeling unfilled some of the time.  But who gives a shit, really?  How important is it?  I'm working hard at internalizing the idea that whatever I get done today is enough.

Behaving Well . . . Sort Of

An update on the Stinky Dog Story . . . 

As you may or may not recall the dog owner offered to take SuperK and me out to lunch to thank us for taking care of Bob (not his real name but if I ever get a dog I'm naming him Bob and I don't care if it's a boy or a girl.  Bob is just such a great name for a dog.  Very workmanlike.)  At this point I was so annoyed at the behavior of the owner I demurred politely, hoping that he would simply go away and leave me alone.  I didn't want to have lunch with him and I certainly didn't want to subject my wife to the outing, either.  I'm on thin ice most of the time with her as it is.

Today before the meeting he came up to me and said: "Since you've totally ignoring me on a lunch date I'd like to give you a gift certificate so you can go out whenever you want."

I equivocated here.  It didn't seem right to tell him that I didn't want to spend any time with him.  But, then again, it didn't seem right to lie.  I mumbled something about SuperK being in a golf tournament and the occasion of our anniversary and that I'd get back to him on a day.

"Look," he said.  "I know you don't like me.  That's the way it is and that's OK."  He paused.  "But I still want to buy lunch for you." 

So here's the thing: I am obligated to behave well.  There is no excuse for me to behave poorly and the fact that someone else may have misbehaved is not an extenuating circumstance.  I need to step up to the plate and behave well, whether I want to or not, irregardless of whether or not the other person is behaving well.  That's my pact with myself - to shoot for the stars as far as my behavior is concerned.  I fall short and I fall short often but I need to aim high.

After the meeting he stuck $60 in my pocket and refused to let me return it.  He mentioned how much less stressful or help was for him and especially Bob.  He talked about visiting a kennel once and how crappy the conditions were.  This is why we took care of Bob.  It was a kindness, a service, an act of selflessness, that I ruined by not behaving well, which is the only thing I have to concentrate on during the course of a day.

Another fucking amends.  The only reason that I try to behave well is because I hate to make amends.

Bleeding Deacon Seaweed

I'm a bit of a stickler for meeting protocol.  I think that we should be able to say whatever we want in a meeting as long as we're not giving advice directly to another member, avoiding the famous but deadly "cross-talk."  I also think that we should honor the procedural rules that have been established as to how a particular meeting should be run.  For instance, if the format for a particular day is to read out of a particular book then the leader should read out of that book, whether he wants to or not.  I'm also not shy about correcting this when someone else diverts from the format.  Out loud.  In the meeting.  In front of everyone.  Mind you I have absolutely no authority to do this except for the authority that I've given to myself.  This usually goes over reasonably well but not always.

So a few weeks ago I was asked to chair a meeting where we read out of a particular book.  We also have a meeting where the leader gets to select a paragraph out of this particular book that's meaningful to them and then share about that section.  On this particular day, however, we pick up at the spot where we stopped at last week.  The short section we read didn't spark any deep and meaningful thoughts so I went ahead and read the paragraph that I had selected when I still thought the format for the day was Speaker's Choice.  I also made a snide comment about the dry nature of the section I was supposed to talk about.

The first person to share was a woman sitting right next to me.  A friend of mine.   She politely disagreed with my assesment of the quality of the selected text and then proceeded to share her thoughts about it.    The next person followed her example and so did the next and so on and so on.  I finally thought: : "Wow, they're ignoring me and following the format despite my attempts to bend the world to my will."

My face flushed briefly as I realized what was happening.  My Will was being subverted.  As it should have been.  

I got a good lesson on how to handle a Bleeding Deacon that morning.

Think and Drink

Isolate:  To set apart or cut off from others.

"What are we likely to receive from Step Five?  For one thing, we shall get rid of that terrible sense of isolation that we've always had.  Almost without exception, alcoholics are tortured by loneliness.  Even before our drinking got bad and people began to cut us off, nearly all of us suffered the feeling that we didn't quite belong."

". . . this emerging from isolation through the open and honest sharing of our terrible burden of guilt . . . "

This was in the part of the text that we read in our Step study this morning.  The feeling of apartness is a really common feature of most alcoholics.  I always felt like I was missing some really crucial information about how to live.  "I don't get it," I'd think, watching other people maneuver through life in a relatively normal manner.  But I didn't want to talk to anyone about it, either.  The stuff was too personal and too embarrassing.

So I'd sit in front of my TV and think and drink.  I didn't even have a clicker back then to change channels remotely so I'd watch whatever was on whatever channel I was watching until I had to pee or get another can of malt liquor.

Think and Drink.  Boy, if I could have gotten paid for doing that . . . 

In Recovery . . .

Recovery:  A return to normal health.

Am I in recovery?  Or recovered?  What do I need to stay in recovery?  Who cares about this semantic attack on a seemingly hopeless state of mind and body?

I'm amused at how people take important religious, philosophical, political, etc., books and study them to death.  With most of these texts a smart person can find passages that support whatever viewpoint they currently hold while discounting anything oppositional.

What a waste of my time.  I was reflecting on Japan and the absence of any 12 Step meetings.  I never felt like drinking but I did become increasingly impatient and intolerant.  The company that helped organize our stay sent out the requisite questionnaire - per usual the first two weeks were fantastic; the third week was very good; and I got some shit to say about that last week.  Part of this, no doubt, was the result of a lot of time out of my routines while in a foreign culture, and part of it, for sure, was the lack of recovery support.  At the start I didn't see the sake on the table - at the end I wondered what it smelled like.

Lest I wonder if I'm an alcoholic . . . .

I like what one of our founders said when asked if he thought he would ever take another drink: "I believe that if I keep doing what I've been doing that I will never have to pick up another drink."

I Am Totally Whelmed Today

Did you know that "whelm" is an actual word?  Overwhelmed?  Sure.  Underwhelmed?  Got it.  Whelmed?  OK, then.

Unless each member follows to the best of his ability our suggested Twelve Steps to recovery, he almost certainly signs his own death warrant.  His drunkenness and dissolution are not penalties inflicted by people in authority; they result from his personal disobedience to spiritual principles.

Tradition Nine, baby.  How great is that concept?  I was the kid who looked at my mother as she told me that the skillet was hot, got burned while defiantly grabbing the thing, then got mad . . . at her . . . when I got burned.  Mom didn't burn me - the law of heat transference took care of that.

So we do obey spiritual principles, first because we must, and ultimately because we love the kind of life such obedience brings.  Great pain and great love are our disciplinarians; we need no others.

The Saga of Bob

The Great Dog Experiment has ended.

I marvel at the existential battle between the two great forces of Perfectionism and Acceptance that takes place in my head on a daily basis.  This battle used to grind me up because every day I failed in my attempts to be perfect and because I failed so often I slipped into the habit of doing whatever I wanted.  If I couldn't be perfect I figured I could act out.  The difference today is that - while I still hold myself to this high ideal - I accept the fact that I'm going to fail often, and I'm okay with that.  Shoot for the stars, I say.  Don't be content if your armed robbery count drops from daily to weekly, I say.  Yes, quite an improvement but let's try to cut out the felonies completely.

The Bad Dog Owner assured us that he would pick up his dog Thursday morning.  This was before he dropped the dog off at which point it became Thursday afternoon.  At 3PM - total radio silence - I texted him.  He replied that he was in route and would arrive about 6PM.  I stifled the urge to petulantly point out that this would be Thursday evening, not Thursday afternoon, but at this point I was grateful that he was responding at all.  He texted again at about 6:45, pleading heavy traffic, before arriving after 7.

(Ed. Note:  He actually got there at 7 but the story is better if he arrives later.  I'm lying here to punch up the narrative, in other words).

SuperK and I had discussed the whole situation and agreed that we just needed to hand off the dog as pleasantly as possible.  We agreed that this guy is not at a level of spiritual development where I could complain about the dog's odor or point out that he really should be more responsive when someone else is doing you the favor of watching your animal.  The transfer went fine.  He was oblivious and we kept our mouths shut.  

The dog - we started to call him Bob because that's what we call all animals - was quite excited to see his master, then he came over and sat next to me.  I don't think this guy is a dog lover.  I think Bob is a furnishing.  I felt guilty at not paying more attention to Bob but I think I paid way more attention to him than his owner does. 

Shooting for perfection; failing often; sleeping well at night, at peace with my flaws. 

I saw the owner today and he wants to take us to lunch.  I deferred, demurely, hoping he'll forget about the offer.  I didn't like him before and I like him even less today.  I don't want to spend time with him.  I don't need someone to buy me lunch.  I can go buy my own lunch with SuperK and have a good time.

I kind of miss Bob today.

I Can Always Make Matters Worse

Worse:  More bad.

I try to talk to someone in recovery on the phone every day.  I know I'm nuts but I can cover this craziness under thick, oozing layers of denial and self-justification - talking to another person who knows me is a great governor on my Bullshit Machine.  I rang up a guy I sponsor yesterday who is following the time-honored Fellowship tradition of never picking up the phone and calling his sponsor.  Huzzah! I say.  Good for you.  Millions have unsuccessfully trod this path already but maybe you have the key to success.

Anyway, per usual, I caught someone who was dealing with a lot of stuff and really needed to talk.  I really need to listen, as a general rule - it gives me a short break from my constant self-absorbed musings.  All well and good.  He suggested a coffee after the meeting today and I explained that the dog-sitting is kind of time-consuming early in the morning so I didn't think I'd attend.  All well and good, too, and he understood completely.  Then I decided I'd go further into the reasoning - my reasoning - as to why the dude who owns the dog is acting like such a dickish piece of shit.  He did not ask to hear this information and there was no reason for me to bring it up except that I wanted to discharge my self-righteous bile about the whole situation.  

The great thing I do before I gossip is that I tell the person who is going to be subjected to the gossip that I never do it.  There is some reasoning behind this but it's so shallow and flimsy as to not bear repeating.  The courts are full of criminals today explaining why there was a perfectly acceptable reason for them to break the law.  I don't feel terrible about the gossip.  I do set a high standard for my behavior and I fail often, but I'm giving it a shot.  I'm trying to get better without expecting perfection.  Still, it wasn't admirable behavior so I apologized to my sponsee quickly.

If I hear someone tell tales about another person behind their back, I never divulge anything personal to the gossiper.  I keep my distance.  If that person is comfortable talking about someone else behind their back why wouldn't he be comfortable talking about me behind my back?

So I wonder how my sponsee views me now?  As a guy who made a mistake and is honestly trying to correct it?  Or as a gossiper?  

Dog is My God

Contradiction:  A statement that contradicts itself, i.e., a statement that makes a claim that the same thing is true and that it is false at the same time and in the same senses of the terms. 

That is an OUTSTANDING definition.

So I'm a dog person by which I mean that I like most animals more than I like most people, and I'm not kidding about that.  I'm not a dog owner which would seem to be a contradiction in terms but then again . . . not if you know me.  Stay with me as this meandering straightens itself out eventually.

At most of my meetings I have a lot of friends, these relationships exhibiting varying degrees of depth and intensity.  And being an outgoing and generally agreeable man I'm friendly with most of the rest of the people.  A few people I don't like and, generally, they know this.  And there is the category of people that I'm cordial to even though it's clear that some underlying friction exists.

After my morning meeting a few days ago this dude asked me if I would be willing to host his dog - at my house - while he went on a business trip.  He lives near the meeting and he usually takes the animal for a walk while I'm still shooting the shit with people outside.  I always stoop and pet him - the dog, not the dude.  He knows me, is clearly happy to see me, and is eager to get petted.

I was hesitant about doing this.  It's one thing to help someone with a pet - maybe stopping by a few times to walk him or even staying at the owner's house - and another thing altogether to take in an animal that's probably going to be upset and confused.  Animals are like two year olds - you can't say: "Your owner will be back in three days, so relax."  As far as the dog is concerned he has been left in a strange place in an unknown neighborhood with people he doesn't recognize, and he's never going to see his owner ever again.  He doesn't speak English.

The thing about this thing is this: I'm not really a big fan of the dude who asked for my help.  I had a run-in with him a while back about his tendency to spend most of the meeting fucking around on his cell phone.  I don't care if you want to peer at a tiny electronic screen for ten straight hours, paging through unimportant things, just not in a meeting, believing it sends a terrible message to newcomers who may be struggling to get involved.  I pointed out to him that this was rude behavior during the start of a meeting a while back - I have been elected Sargent At Arms at this meeting in a unanimous, landslide vote of One to Zero; Seaweed in the affirmative, everyone else can piss off - and he told me where to stuff my opinion.  I wasn't particularly offended at the time - his behavior really isn't my business and I had no right or authority to tell him what to do.  I was, however, polite in my request and I thought his reaction was outsized and exaggerated, a good indicator that he sees where I'm right and that he may have a ways to go in the Practice These Principles department.

So our relationship has been frostily strained since then.  SuperK and I bandied his request around and agreed to help the guy out.  Part of it was to be of service in a general way.  After all, I ask my Higher Power to show me ways that I may be helpful as my day unfolds and I don't put any preconditions on this, although making a nubile 19 year old or a guy with a Ferrari feel welcome is more along the lines of what I've been thinking.

My "friend" is one of those people who goes to a lot of meetings but doesn't seem to . . . you know . . . work The Steps or Practice These Principles.  These people don't change much over time is my experience.  They get stuck.  They're better but not well by a long shot.

What did I expect and what did I get?  The dog shows up and it stinks.  I don't mean dog stink - I mean dog who lives in a dumpster stink.  I mean I'm not going to pet the dog stink.  I don't think he left enough food for the time he's gone and he definitely didn't leave enough poop bags - they ran out immediately which sent me to the grocery store to replenish his supplies with my money.  And the kicker is this: the guy tells me all I have to do is walk the dog briefly twice a day, that the dog doesn't really like to take walks.  Yeah, me, either.  The dog loves walks - the lazy-ass dog owner doesn't like to take walks.  The nail in the coffin is that he has not responded to messages the first two days giving him an update on the dog's well-being, messages he requested.

I feel bad for the dog.  It's a pretty good dog.  The guy's an asshole, however, and I can't do anything about that.

Good Old Soen Ozeki

One of the places we visited in Japan was called the Daisen-in Zen Temple.  It was a pretty cool temple.  Most of the Buddhist temples have the building part - which is just OK, sort of a cluttered, chaotic interior space, packed with offerings and figures and gilded surfaces and, of course, a handful of Buddhas.  My impression is that most religious buildings follow a general script: lavish, iconic, meant to impress and, in the worst scenarios, to intimidate.

The Zen gardens were always way cool.  In this temple we picked up a volunteer who spoke some English and was consequently able to explain the meaning of the garden - how it was laid out, what the rocks symbolized, why there were different patterns drawn in the sand.  It was helpful.

There were a few monks drifting around, shorn, ageless, bright orange robes tied rakishly around their shoulders.  I always laugh at the monks - they are relentlessly cheerful characters, goofy almost, quick with a smile and a nod and a little comment.  One older guy was manning a table that sold literature - Soen Ozeki.  We talked with him for a bit - he was the guy who called us "the happiest couple in the world."  I'm assuming - giving the Buddhist emphasis on the here and now - that he meant the happiest couple who was currently standing in front of him.  I don't care.  It was a nice compliment.

He gave me a slip of paper that had this on it:

A Song of Gratitude
The whole family, harmonious and devout.
Aware of debts to our parents and ancestors (this is very Zenny).
Revering Nature, grateful for society.  (So is this).
Always humble, learning from others.
Able to give, demonstrating kindness.
Making one's motto: "A bright life." (Good image - brightness.  A two year old would understand what it means to be bright).
Overlooking other's faults, correcting one's own. (Yeah, well, screw that one).
Moderate in speech, not getting angry. 
Gentle, kind, honest,
Let's appreciate the joy of life.
Patient.  Peaceful.
Not getting angry.  (Second showing of this one and ver batim at that.  Must be an important one.  I'm looking at you, Seaweed).
Careful in speech.  (Careful, moderate, pretty similar).
This leads to a long life.