Complaining Seaweed

Complain:  To express feelings of pain, dissatisfaction, or resentment

The point yesterday, as I recall, before I was distracted by some small, bright, shiny object off in my peripheral vision, was meant to be another meditation on change.  What a common theme for me!  What a common theme for most of my fellows in Alcoholics Anonymous.  It is obviously a part of the human condition full of angst.  

I remember a good friend of mine - a wry, understated Canadian - quipping - after we were shot down on a couple of proposals to do some things differently at the morning meeting: "I guess the point is never change anything."  I laughed then and it still makes me laugh today.

I remember the response I got from some of the hoary heads in Chicago when I returned for a funeral and complained too much about how they weren't "doing it right in Cincinnati."  "How many meetings do they have?  750?  Sounds like they're doing just fine without your input.  Why don't you go back home and try to be of service."  It wasn't as nice as that but you get the drift.

I believe what I do generally is complain about things I don't like and then complain when they change.  I remark on my tendency to complain about how A.A. meetings are structured in whatever new city I've recently moved to - holding up as an example how great they were in the place I just left - until I move on again, at which point the place I complained bitterly about upon my arrival is now the gold standard for The Program in the new place.   You can't please me, obviously.

There is a pattern in my quest for acceptance.  I mourn the old - trying to hang onto what's familiar for as long as possible - and I resist the new - comparing it unfavorably to what I'm losing and it doesn't matter if it's better, either.

I'll get there.  I'll get there despite all the bitching and fighting and scratching and biting.