Jesus and Satan and Ozzy Osbourne Walk Into a Bar . . .

We have a vigorous discussion about God and gods and religion and spirituality in Alcoholics Anonymous.  The Higher Power construct has saved more alcoholics than anything else while simultaneously driving away more alcoholics than anything else.  After all, we are polarizing people - confused polarizing people.  We're aware of this so we tread lightly and carefully around the "spiritual angle."  In the Midwest I perceived a much more pronounced religious effect - it was the Lord's Prayer to close the meeting and only the Lord's Prayer - while here in sunny Southern California where the atheists and agnostics have a strong presence - it's the Serenity Prayer and only the Serenity Prayer.

I grew up in a conservative Christian church and I consider myself a Christian.  I think I'm a pretty good Christian but I bet a lot of official Christian preacher types would say "meh."  I don't practice in any organized sense and I pick and choose stuff to believe in or to leave by the wayside.  Organized religion has always seemed kind of rule-sy to me and I'm really, really resistant to rules.  Plus, the rules have a mild odor of pious and sanctimonious hypocrisy.  Who came up with these rules anyway?  The rules police?  People who maintain that God is speaking directly to them?  Sounds pretty arrogant to me.   Plus-plus, there's an emphasis on "if you don't do this you'll burn for all eternity on a  lake of fire."  That doesn't sound very nice.  It certainly doesn't sound like fun. It doesn't sit well with me to be threatened that if I don't behave well I'll get roasted.  Plus-plus-plus,  Religious people often come across as dour and overly serious.  I mean, for all eternity?  That's pretty heavy-handed.  How about "we'll toss you into a lake of fire and then snatch you right back out after a couple of minutes?"  I can't imagine anyone saying "oh, I'm only in the lake of fire for a minute so I'm going to murder the asshole that didn't use his turn signal."  Can you point out a good joke that Jesus told?  I mean . . . if you're a god that can defeat hell and sin and Satan and bring people back from the dead I'd think you'd also have a god-like sense of humor.  If I was a god I'd be bringing down the house.  I'd be so fucking funny my church would be packed on Sunday.  Here's Jesus in the wilderness with 5,000 people and some bread and fish and he's worried about lunch? Nobody brought anything to eat?  No one stuffed a Nutrigrain bar into their man-purse?  That doesn't sound very plausible.  Personally, I'd be working out new material for my stand-up routine and not worrying about lunch.  You know - "Jesus and Satan and Ozzy Osbourne walk into a bar . . . "

I say this: build your own higher power.  What would that look like?  Nice, kind, friendly, patient, tolerant, possessing as previously mentioned a wicked sense of humor.  Do that today and don't worry so much about heaven and hell and good and evil.  Be nice.  Don't be an asshole.  Use your turn signals and let that guy get in front of you on the highway.  I like the big concepts in religious texts but I also think that we intuitively know what good behavior looks like.  Do that.

Into Thinking

"Doing your best, you are going to live your life intensely.  You are going to be productive, you are going to be good to yourself, because you will be giving yourself to your family, to your community, to everything.  But it is the action that is going to make you feel intensely happy.  When you always do your best, you take action.  Doing your  best is taking the action because you love it, not because you're expecting a reward."

I consider the titles of some of the original Alcoholics Anonymous chapters often.  There is a lot of emphasis on doing things: Into Action, How it Works, Working with Others.  There are not a lot of chapters dedicated to thinking.  "Into Thinking" would be very popular with new people who believe that the best thing to do would be to go off alone and think.  Very productive.  We are such clear thinkers.  Everything we think makes perfect sense to the entire world.  And if you don't believe me then share what you're thinking with another alcoholic.  The facial expression you're seeing could best be described as a confused sneer or maybe appalled confusion.  In other words - you are not making any sense at all.  That's why we encourage you to share whatever weird bullshit is richochting around in your brain with another . . .  you know . . .  live, conscious, attentive person.  If you stick with The Program then the looks on whomever you are currently holding captive with your confusion will start to improve.  

I took to heart the suggestion that I should initially concentrate on improving my behavior and a little later adding what words came out of my mouth into the mix.  Along the lines of not taking a swing at the guy I was calling a son of a bitch.  "Sure, if you think it's helpful you can still curse some guy out as long as it doesn't escalate beyond that."  That kind of thinking.  I know, I know, it doesn't sound great but my improvement was incremental.  No one mentioned trying to improve my thinking at the start because they knew that was way, way beyond any self-improvement progress I was going to be making.  In fact, I still do some homicidal thinking from time to time.  I just keep my mouth shut and my hands in my pockets while I'm doing it.

So today go to work and do your best.  If you do this you'll be happier at the end of the day.  If you just put in the time, resentfully, tolerating your job only for the paycheck and waiting for the escape of the weekend, then . . .  whew . . . sounds miserable, doesn't it?  It is work so it's not going to be as pleasant as play but if you're doing your best then it's going to go better.

What's the Big Rush?

I like this Zen reminder: "If you try too hard to do more than your  best, you will spend more energy than is needed and in the end your best will not be enough.  When you overdo, you deplete your body and go against yourself, and it will take you longer to accomplish your goal.  Just do your best because if you do your best there is no way you can judge yourself."

Here's a Buddhist Proverb: A student told a master that he was going to meditate for four hours each day and wondered how long it would take him to reach enlightenment.  "About ten years."  The student - who sounds like an alcoholic if you ask me, or at least he's behaving like one - told the master that he would meditate for eight hours a day, then, goddammit, so now how long would it take to reach enlightenment?  He was in a hurry!  He wanted to rush through meditation and rush into enlightenment and then what would he do?  In a big hurry?

Here's the master's reply: "You  are not here to sacrifice your joy or your life.  You are here to live, to be happy, and to love.  If you can do your best in two hours of meditation, but you spend eight hours instead, you will only grow tired, miss the point, and you won't enjoy your life.  Do your best, and perhaps you will learn that no matter how long you meditate, you can live, love, and be happy."

Another reminder that the theme of our Twelfth Step is the joy of living, that I get sober so that I can have a full and productive life.  I find that I cope better if I stay involved in my recovery but that the whole point is to have some fun and peace of mind.  I'm not a dude who's going to sit in an A.A. clubhouse and go to four meetings a day.  I can barely pay attention for an hour four times a week.

I am not as interesting as I think I am.

No one is thinking about me.  No one is doing anything to me.  I'm not that important.

I went to a doctor for a number of years who was the definition of a curmudgeon.  So I loved him, of course.  I love No Bullshit people.  He had a small sheet of paper on the wall of his exam room that looked like he put it together after an annoying day when he was in a bad mood.  It had things like "You do not get to talk about more than two issues.  I have other patients."  and my personal favorite "No matter how sick you think you are I'm dealing with other patients who are sicker than you."

Don't Change Anything! Ever!

I am starting to read the new literature offering from Alcoholics Anonymous called the"Plain Language Big Book."  My understanding is that the main goal is to modernize some of the dated language in the original text such as "boiled as an owl" or that weird reference about an explosion at Wombley's clapboard factory.  Who's Wombley?  What's clapboard?  And why is there an entire factory for making it?  I personally have never been in the market for clapboard, new or used.  And as a pretty committed vegetarian I don't like to contemplate the image of boiling an oil.  "What's for dinner, dear?"  "Your favorite - boiled owl with capers and a vinaigrette reduction."

I think part of the calculus as well was that the original members were by and large well-educated, Christian, old white me so some of the language can come across as vaguely sexist, overly religious, and occasionally outright racist.  I confess to loving some of the outrage by the attempt to reword our beloved text.   I'm kind of enjoying a snide laugh at the comments I hear occasionally about the apostasy of changing one word of our literature.  The conservatives among us don't want to change anything, ever! while the liberals want to change everything, right now!  There are, of course, all varieties in between but still most of us are reluctant to change something that has worked so well for so long for so many.  Me, personally, I love reading anything about spirituality or recovery.  I'm always learning something new or revisiting something I had forgotten.  I'm surprised to see passages underlined in my favorite books that don't resonate with me today or to come across something that really hits home that I glossed over originally.

In the introduction to the book we see how Bill W took his first faltering steps toward recovery.  The first key to the solution was his acquaintance with Dr. William Silkworth, a physician who took an early interest in alcoholism and began to term it an illness or disease and not a moral failing or sign of a personal character weakness.  Then Bill dipped his toe into the six step solution offered by an early Christian movement known as The Oxford Group.  Bill didn't embrace the religious part but did latch on to some of their suggestions on how to grow spiritually; such as a moral inventory, making personal amends, and sharing your issues with another person.  Still, some sober months later, he was in Akron on a failed business trip when he began to get very, very thirsty.  He knew he was in trouble of drinking again so he picked up the phone and started calling churches which led him eventually to his meeting with Dr. Bob - the first unofficial meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous, although neither of them knew it at the time.

A common reaction with new people is to marvel at the lightness and joy that they experience when they start going to meetings.  There is something magical about the experience.  We don't know how to explain it very well or to describe that sense of freedom that we get.  I was privileged to talk to a woman after the meeting this morning who was on Day 11 of her sobriety.  I could see such relief on her face when it became obvious that I knew what I was talking about, that I really do know what she is going through.  This is a gift that we long-timers are given.  It is not a burden or a task that we don't want to do but do it anyway because we have to.

Plus, it is really, really great to recycle all of my stale and fairly obvious stories to someone who hasn't' heard them yet.

Many, Many Repetitions

"Understanding is the key to right principles and attitudes, and right action is the key to good living; therefore the joy of good living is the theme of A.A.'s Twelfth Step."

12&12 P. 125

"I had to face the ever-present knowledge that my every action, word, and thought was within, or outside, the principles of the program.  The only course open to me . . . was one in which I imposed on myself an effort of commitment, discipline, and responsibility."

Daily Reflections February 16

I really, really like the reminder that ultimately it's my responsibility to act, speak, and think in a loving and spiritual manner.  This can be difficult because often my instincts demand that I trample on the rights of my fellow man.  I like the suggestion that I'm the one responsible to impose this disciplined way of living on myself.  I know when I'm acting well and when I'm not.  I can keep acting the way I've always acted or I can make an effort to behave better.  Often, today, I do this, but not always.  Sometimes I get lazy and act, speak, or think like a dick.  Sometimes I enjoy doing this or otherwise why wouldn't I stop?  Man, I'm trudging and trying and that's all I can do.  I'm trying my best all of the time . . . some of the time . . .  every now and then .  .  . okay, I'm not trying my best very often but it sounds better to say that I am.

The line from Step Twelve tells me that the joy of living comes by practicing good action. 

The payoff of "good living" is joy.  And joy is the theme of the Twelfth Step.  I learn from this man I talk to at length every week who mentions women every time we talk.  Every time.  He's married and professes to be faithful in his marriage - and I don't doubt this - but he talks about women every time and he often describes his behavior in a way that make me wonder if it's borderline enough that it may eventually lead from sketchy behavior to destructive behavior. When I point this out to him his response has been along the lines of "I know what my bedevilments are."  That's a good start in my opinion but a start is all it is.  If I have behavior I want to change I have to recognize the behavior, then I need to change the behavior.  If I understand what I'm doing and I don't change I assume that I'm okay with the sketchy behavior.  Or I'd change it.  Sometimes I take a little pleasure in the behavior and this pleasure is sweeter than the work I need to do.  I guess what I'm doing is saying: "Fuck it.  Not going to change."

Because I believe spirituality is universal I'll toss in a Toltec principle: "What will really make the difference is action.  Taking the actions over and over again strengthens your will, nurtures the seed, and establishes a solid foundation for the new habit to grow.  After many repetitions these new agreements will become second nature."

I note the phrase "many repetitions."  I note the phrase "over and over again."  When I watch a golfer hit a beautiful drive what I have to remember is that she has practiced that drive over and over again.  The repetition has built up muscle memory so that she can take the action without a lot of thinking.  It is an ingrained habit.

A Flimsy Reed

The son of a man who is arguably my best friend in the world is just getting started on the process of recovery.  He asked if I would make myself available to his boy in whatever guise that may take.  It's hard to impress on the non-alcoholic what an honor it is to be asked such a question.  When I was drinking and using no one asked me to help out with anything.  The general request was usually more along the lines of "maybe could you please stay the fuck away from my kid?"

My tendency is to want to tell someone what to do.  On the one hand this is fallacious reasoning  because I'm an idiot like most of the other people walking around.  On the other hand I have managed to stay sober for a long time which makes me something of an expert in . . . keeping myself sober for a long time.  My impulse is to tell someone else to do it like me.  Today my best action is to tell someone else what I've done.  I don't know if that will work for anyone else.  I also throw out a lot of suggestions and possibilities of what I've seen work for others, ask a lot of questions so the other person can hear himself talk, work things out in their own fashion.  I can offer my opinion on what seems to be a successful approach to recovery and what seems dicey.  But, in the end, I don't know what anyone else should do about anything.  I'm not a retired major league baseball player with a .300 lifetime batting average trying to correct the swing of a nine year old fighting for a starting spot on his little league team.  That guy can tell someone what to do.  He's a baseball expert.  I'm not a recovery expert.  I'm not even a Seaweed expert.  I'm an idiot!

But, boy, is it an honor to talk to another alcoholic/drug addict, particularly one in the early throes of recovery.  It is a big part of what keeps us sober, this passing along what we have been freely given.  It still breaks my brain to muse on the idea that giving something away to someone else is such a great measure of my happiness.  I've changed from being an incredible, world-class selfish, oblivious prick to being a . . .  well . . . I'm still pretty self-centered - I'm just not featured this month on the cover of the Journal of Self-Centered Behavior.  I'm the subject of the main article but I think Willie has been on more covers than I have, and I've been on a lot of covers.

I think a lot of the good men and women in Indianapolis and Chicago and Cincinnati who walked hand in hand with me through my early days.  I can't ever remember an unkind word.  I can't remember more than an occasional suggestion that I should get off my ass and do something specific.  I think my forebears were sharing their own experience, strength, and hope.  I think they  were telling me it would be a good idea to hear the experience, strength, and hope of a lot of different people because - if I did that - I'd be sure to learn what was going to work for me.  I think they implied if I sat alone in my apartment it wouldn't be surprising if I lapsed into my past thinking and my past behavior.

The Toltecs: "We only see what we want to see, and hear what we want to hear.  We don't perceive things the way they are.  We have the habit of dreaming with no basis in reality.  We literally dream things up in our imagination."

From an anonymous A.A. member: "How amazing the revelation that the world, and everyone in it, can get along just fine with or without me.  What a relief to know that people, places, and things will  be perfectly okay without my control and direction." 

I love the old saying about a "flimsy reed."  Whenever I talk to a new person I feel like I'm safe onboard the ship and I'm reaching out this reed to someone trying to keep their head above water in an angry sea.  Here . . . here . . . grab on!

Here's the #$@!! Pool Again

I have another pool story.  It paints me in a bad light then in a good light then in a terrible light before I rally at the last minute and get painted in an otherworldly glow of god-like serenity and spirituality (I paint myself, anyhow, not saying anyone else would paint me such a nimbus around my head) and - like all my pool stories - isn't that interesting so I've had to take some time trying to figure out how to share the story without boring everyone to death.   

There are four lanes at my pool - two narrow lanes and two wide lanes with the wide lanes being up against the wall and the narrow lanes in the middle of the pool.  I like to swim in the wide lanes but not against the wall and I'm not thrilled about the narrow lanes, either.  I'm a tall guy with a big wingspan so some extra room helps me to not run into another swimmer or bang my hand on an unforgiving wall.  Under duress I will swim in any of the lanes, of course, with only the occasional curse muttered under my breath.

OK, that's not too bad so far.  Brief.  Clear images.  Moving forward quickly.  A little too technical and detailed but I am an engineer in my own mind.

I was up against the ropes and not against the wall in one of the wide lanes when a woman I know - a bit of an oddball which is OK because I'm not running on all cylinders myself - jumped in and asked if she could swim in my highly desirable lane using which would have shifted me against the wall.  I demurred politely at this pretty ballsy request.  She was not upset.  There were two "walkers" in the narrow lane next to me, nice women I know pretty well.  They're big girls so they like the wide end lane where they can walk side by side and chat while they're exercising.  "I'll tell you what," I said to the kooky woman, glowing brightly with my own generosity and consideration.  "I'll trade with these two and you all can share the big lane."  

A side note: swimmers don't really like the walkers.  They clog the pool up and it is a swimming pool after all.  You can walk anywhere.  I can only swim in water.  I'm not saying swimmers hate walkers as people but why don't you go outside and take a nice walk in the sunshine and fresh air?  Let me gasp for oxygen in peace while I'm trying not to drown.  I can't swim over to the coffee shop.  You sure as shit can walk over there.

Back to the riveting story . . .  Everybody begins walking and swimming.  Everybody is happy.  I swim down to the  far end of the pool, turn around, and the kook has clambered over the rope and is now walking with me in the narrow lane.  My initial reaction is like "What the fuck?  Are you fucking kidding me?"  Out of the goodness of my heart I gave up my preferred big lane/non-wall/against the rope slot so that I can be jammed into a narrow lane?  With this annoying person?  This walker?  I was outraged.  I was offended.  I felt violated.  It crossed my mind briefly that the goofball woman was fucking with me on purpose.  "Heh, heh, heh, I'll show him," she might have been, maybe, probably, muttering under her breath.

My first thought was that I would just swim down the middle of the lane and deliberately clip her with one of my hard plastic hand paddles as I passed her by - pool etiquette insists that you alert someone if you're going to share a lane to avoid such collisions.  I immediately discarded that.  Then, I decided I'd just swim my backstroke and if I clipped her with one of my hard plastic hand paddles it would be a "mistake" and not a deliberate assault.  I discarded that as well.  Quickly, very quickly but not immediately.  I vaguely sensed I was treading on shifting sands.  So I just started to swim with consideration.  I've been swimming a long time and I'm a pretty good swimmer so passing by someone in a narrow lane without clipping them with one of my hard plastic hand paddles is no big deal.  I was making a mountain out of a molehill.  I was upsetting myself to no good purpose.

I finished my swim at the same time as one of my big lady friends, and we climbed out of the pool together.  She said this, unprompted: "Stevie, you are a very nice person.  You are always very considerate of other people." She repeated this theme a couple of times.  Like most alcoholics my tendency is to downplay a compliment but I've learned that robs the compliment-er of the good feeling of paying someone else a compliment, deprives them of the pleasure of thinking of someone else in a loving manner.  Per usual I brought the spirituality I've learned in the Rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous into the conversation, explaining how the practice of NOT THINKING ABOUT MYSELF ALL THE TIME makes me very, very happy.

Pools notwithstanding.