Unshakable!

Shadrach:  One of the three Jewish captives in Babylonia who were cast into a blazing furnace by Nebuchadnezzar and came out miraculously unharmed.

Just wanted to see if everyone was paying attention on the definitions.  You might want to google Meshach and Abednego and get a jump on tomorrow's words for the day.

I think Shadrach would be a cool name for a linebacker.

SuperK, ever the good German girl, seared the phrase "intensely practical" in my mind a while back.  I'm a pretty good German boy so it wasn't that hard to do.  I'll do just about anything if it's going to give me concrete results; I don't even have to understand how the process works as long as I see the results in others.  I also like this quote: "There is a direct linkage among self-examination, meditation, and prayer.  Taken separately, these practices can bring much relief and benefit.  But when they are logically related and interwoven, the result is an unshakable foundation for life."

Unshakable!!  Well, our founders did get a little carried away from time to time, but I think they were on to something by suggesting that we need to weave all of this stuff together.  I needed some encouragement with meditation; it seemed so non-specific.  Praying I got: more talking about myself, a concrete, tangible action to take.  

Anyway, I have added a new concrete defense to those who ask: "So what do you do all day?"  I have mentioned that I now lead with the information that I'm in recovery.  It does indeed take a big (but well-worth it) chunk of my time and that revelation has the same effect as an elephant gun has on a charging rhino to anyone who is presenting a holier than thou attitude; or perhaps I should say a busier than thou attitude.  Now I've started to add this: "I meditate a lot.  I try to sit quietly with myself without FREAKING OUT!"  It IS something I do.  It's productive as hell.  It's a productive action.

Another round from the elephant gun.

Step 11

Motive:  Some inner drive, impulse, intention, etc.  that causes a person to do something or act in a certain way; incentive; goal,.

"On awakening let us think about the twenty-four hours ahead."

If I must.  If I must to stay sober.  Although I do like that we're gently reminded of the importance of the one day at a time thing.

"We consider our plans for the day."

My plans for the day revolve around me, getting what I want, avoiding what I do not want.  If somebody gets trampled as I pursue these aims, so be it.  I'm not afraid to break a few legs or take out the occasional eye if my needs are satisfied.  

So far so good.  I wake up; I plan my victories; I rule triumphant.

"Before we begin, we ask God to direct our thinking, especially asking that it be divorced from self-pity, dishonest or self-seeking motives."

There are so many things wrong with this sentence I don't know where to begin.  I mean, the whole thing, all of the qualifiers accurately describing my motives assume that if I remove self-pity, self-seeking, and dishonesty from them that there will be something left.  There won't be.  Those are all of my motives.  I don't have any other motives.

"Our thought-life will be placed on a much higher plane when our thinking is cleared of wrong motives."

Ah, there it is: the carrot, the reward.  My thought-life was on an exceptionally low plane and brought me no pleasure whatsoever; I could stand to have my thought-plane - whatever that is - raised slightly.   My history is one of avoiding any work that I find distasteful or unpleasant.  The Steps have to be intensely practical for me.  I have to get relief or I'm not doing the work.

I'm just sayin'.

Time Takes Time

I started drinking with serious purpose when I was about 18 and I drank for 12 years.  I was a daily maintenance drinker and drug abuser.  I systematically took down my life, brick by brick, bolt by bolt, destroying everything, leaving nothing standing, with deadly purpose.  I was diligent and meticulous.  I showed up early and stayed late and I never missed a day.  I worked at it.  You could drop me off in a dry county at 3AM in the morning, on a Sunday, and I'd have had a case of beer and a bag of weed in two hours.  

I was good.

Then I came into The Program and I got frustrated that I didn't feel great after two weeks.  

The good news is that there's a solution.  The bad news is that it takes a while.

A Long Home Run

Long:  Measuring much from end to end in space or time; not short or brief.

It all works out in the long run.  Life is more fair than I care to admit or at least equally unfair to all of us.  Rain falls on the wicked and on the just, despite my constant bitching to the contrary.  I've had some bad stuff happen to me and some really great stuff and a whole hell of a lot of stuff that falls in between.  It's just that if you listen to me talk you'd think that I was standing in my personal downpour all of the time.  I act like that cartoon character who walks around with his head wrapped up in a tiny, teeny thunderstorm; lightning flashing, heavy rain, peels of thunder, mini tornadoes spinning off, the whole bit.

Maybe that's why so few people seem to listen to me.

More About Me.

Old:  Having been in use for a long time; worn out by age or use; shabby.

A friend of mine plays in a band.  His group had a show on Saturday night to which I was invited and I said that I would go.  I was a little leery accepting the invitation because the music started about the time I'm normally going to bed.  I'm old, after all.

I said I would go because I really love seeing live music.  SuperK and I go all of the time although we usually try to find something interesting during the day or early evening.  But I also wanted to go because this guy is a good friend; his music is important to him and I wanted to support that love.  I can't tell you what a rush I get when someone reads this stuff here and tells me that they got something out of it.

"Really?" I say.  "How come?"

SuperK and I had a busy day and I could feel my resolve weaken as the day went along.  Needless to say, I was in bed when he took the stage and fast asleep before his group started their 4th song.  I'm probably exaggerating there.

Today I felt some remorse.  I wasn't sunk in a deep, dark depression but I felt a little bad about it.  Here's where the sickness shows up.

First of all, I assumed he noticed I wasn't there, obsessed over it all evening to such an extent that it affected his playing, and that he was still furious about it today, after lying awake all night, thinking about me. 

Yeah.  Think I have a problem with ego?

More likely, I mused, he may have noticed that I wasn't there and the thought stuck in his mind for 9 seconds or so.  Maybe 10 seconds.  Certainly no more than 13 seconds.

Still unlikely but at least possible.

I considered this scenario: he didn't think about me at all.  He was, after all, performing in front of a lot of people.  You think maybe that was on his mind?  He was probably nervous.  He was probably enjoying the experience.  He was probably not thinking about me.

I spoke with him this morning and apologized for missing the set.  Not groveling apologizing; a friend apologizing to a friend.  It was fine.

I woke up today to see a picture of him in full garb on my FB page with the caption: "While you were sleeping."  That's pretty funny.

For a guy who never thinks about anyone else I sure that everyone else is thinking about me.

Suggestions

Suggest:  To propose (someone or something) as a possibility.

I don't believe that there is a better mix of personal responsibility and group support to be found anywhere in the world than there is in The Program.  If you want help, we are going to give you help.  We are well equipped to give you help, being a collection of control-freak, know-it-alls.  We'll help alright.  We'll help you until it hurts; we'll help you until you scream; we'll help you until WE scream. And the great thing about the help is that it comes in so many different sizes and shapes and flavors.  Everybody finds someone to identify with in The Program.  We invariably hear someone share Their Story and think: "Wow.  Did that guy have a camera in my room because he's like telling everybody what I did."

But if you don't want the help we don't force it on you.  It pains us but we are excellent providers of rope; as in: how much rope do you need to hang yourself?  All of us get to find our own way in our recovery.  Many of us find it in The Rooms; many of us find it in all kinds of outside groups such as religious organizations and other self-help groups; and many of us never find it at all.  But the key is the no rules policy.  I know my hackles were frozen in the fully Up position when I came in - I was just looking for someone to tell me what to do so I could say: "See!  You're just like everyone else: criticizing me for what I do.

They are, after all, suggested Steps.

I Regret NOTHING!

Regret:  To feel sorrow or remorse over (something that has happened, one's own acts, etc.).

"We will not regret the past or wish to shut the door on it."

This was the excellent, excellent topic at today's meeting.  Whenever I'm asked at the last minute to chair a meeting I usually flip to The Promises.  As a Problem Guy I like anything that makes me work on The Solution - which is the main thing, after all - and takes me further away from The Problem - which is where I tend to spend way too much of my time.

It's important for me to remember that The Promises are found in our literature after a discussion of the The 9th Step amends work.  The implication is that I really begin to get some incredible relief after I do some significant work.  I can say this today and mostly be telling the truth: I am not afraid to look at my past and I do not feel remorse for what I find there.  Sure, I cringe sometimes remembering some of the things I said and did,  and I wonder how my life might have turned out if I had made different choices; but it's almost as if I'm watching a movie about some other poor SOB.  When I turn off the reflections I can easily re-center myself right in my very normal and very excellent present.

This is why we do The Steps.  We decide, with the help of others, who we need to apologize to; we apologize, with our heads held high, unashamed, straightforward; we try to the best of our ability to change our behavior from that point on, failing often but never wavering in our determination to do better.

No more groveling.

Shut Up!

My friend Willie calls back today.  He told me a great story.  He was visiting a regular customer of his and noticed that the guy was a few cases low on the product that Willie provides.  Because this large customer orders so much stuff on a regular basis normally a truck makes the delivery.  Willie, trying to be helpful, offers to replace just the product that was out of stock using his own personal vehicle.  I assume that a sub-current here - admittedly small - was to sell a little product a little earlier than otherwise.  I was a sales guy - I know I had to balance selling stuff with being of service to my customers.  Selling stuff did entail asking people to buy things.  The thin line between sales and service can be a tricky one.  

The customer told Willie that he wasn't going to buy anything when Willie entered the store.  Undeterred, Willie made his case.  I really believe my friend was trying to do the right thing.  And I really believe that his customer didn't want to buy any product.  Sometimes people don't want to do things even when it makes sense for them to do these things, and the reasons are clear only to them.  Fair enough.  I don't have to explain my actions in great detail to everybody.  If I don't want to buy something that is SUCH a great deal because it's on sale that's my own business.  
  
"Shut up!" the guy yelled, stopping Willie in his tracks.  That guy got Willie's attention.  That guy made his opinion clear. 

I laughed until my sides ached when I heard this story.  Normally I confess to laughing with my friends but in this case I confess to laughing at Willie.  He knew it was coming.  He laughed, too.

We talked for a bit about how similar this was to dealing with newcomers to The Program.  I can't tell you how many times I've been speaking to a new guy- killing himself  with drugs and alcohol, his life in ruins - with the realization that he wasn't going to do anything that I was suggesting.  I may think that I have a better idea than he does - and I very well might in many of these cases - but that isn't my call to make.  It's his.  When I'm telling some dude how much better his life would be if he would quit drinking and drugging and work The Steps, I'm probably right.  But what do I know?  Maybe the dude needs to take the elevator down a few more floors.  I got off at the floor where I needed to get off, and not a floor earlier.

I don't think I'd be offended if one of these guys just shouted: "Shut up!"  I'd think: "Fair enough."

Deep Thoughts

The alacrity with which my brain resets itself to Total Self-Absorption (which would be a great name for an Arnold Schwarzenegger movie) is like a fist to the gut sometimes.  I get up and my mind grabs onto the sense of self with a power I can't comprehend.  If I think I'm going to get my way and avoid any significant pain, I feel OK.  Happy, even.  But most of the time I'm in a defensive crouch, protecting my turf against a world that is out to make my life difficult.  I'm sure that I'm not going to get my way and I'm even more sure that I'm going to be miserable because of this.

Hit the Recovery reset.  Seek god - serve your fellows.

All Figured Out

Figure Out:  To solve; compute.

I am not light-hearted.  I am not happy go lucky, footloose and fancy free, and blithe of spirit.  Water does not roll off of my back.  Water sticks to my back like glue  - it saturates the fur on my back, forming deep, dark pools that support a rich and varied ecosystem.  It's hard to see how I can move with all of that water on my back.  I look like a water tower.

I have learned how to deal with this intensity of spirit.  It isn't always pleasant.  It requires constant attention and micro-management.

I cannot figure everything out.  I know this to be true because I have a long, long history of trying to figure everything out.  God, how I've tried to understand everything, including the opaque and unexplainable.  You may applaud the effort while doubting the technique.  Many things can't be figured out.  They just are.  They just have to be endured as fact.

You think that I'd have figured this out by now.

I can't figure out shit.  I can take some actions, though.  I can write in this little book.  I can call my friend Willie, who's sicker than I am.  I can get out of the house and take a walk.  I had a sponsor yell at me in frustration once: "Why don't you take a bucket of hot water and wash down the kitchen walls?"  I rented, for god's sake, why was I going to wash down the kitchen walls?  He was tired of me sitting around, thinking, trying to figure everything out, analyzing the shit out of everything.

Wait, wait: I think I got it figured out.

Twenty Five

I celebrated 25 years clean and sober this week.  

"25 continuous years?" some smart ass asked immediately.  Oh.  I didn't realize it had to be continuous.  That seems unreasonable, a real hardship.

My Old City sponsor sent me an anniversary coin and a card.  There was a short note of congratulations in the card, sort of: "26 is the hardest year."  He's mostly joking but there's a suggestion there that I always make sure I'm working on my recovery.  A drink is a drink whether I have 25 days or 25 years.  My habits are better now but I'm one drink away from a whole lotta pain.

Have you ever seen those slow-motion videos of a race car crashing, the one where the car flips over and over and over, parts flying off, dirt spraying all over the place, and still it keeps rolling?  You can't believe how many times the thing flips; you're sure that it's done flipping and it goes over a few more times.  That was me coming into The Program.  I was inside that car.  It wasn't pleasant being inside that car.  I don't want to have that happen again.  I'm too old to survive a wreck like that.

I announced my anniversary at my home group.  A friend approached me after the meeting.  Another smart ass so I knew I had to step down from my high pedestal to a slightly lower, mid-range pedestal. I didn't want to plant my feet firmly on the ground.  I thought a little pedestal work was in order.

"So," he said.  "Have you given any thought yet to working The Steps?"

"No," I replied.  "I've heard that's overrated."

"Just checking," he said.

A guy I sponsor came over, too.  I thought that finally, maybe, I had a shot at getting my ass kissed.

"Goddamn you're old," he said.

These are my friends.

Galileo

Egocentric:  Viewing everything in relation to oneself; self-centered.

I obviously don't know anything about this.

Whenever I have a concept that I'm trying to embrace or a state that I'm trying to attain I find it helpful to think a lot about it but not do anything about it.  In an action sense, I mean.  I don't want to take any action.  That sounds time-consuming, tiring, and frankly, not worth the effort.

Then I pick up The Book and look for my favorite chapter: Into Thinking.  It's right between How I Think and More About Thinking.  Boy, there are a lot of titles in that book that suggest an emphasis on Doing and not on Thinking.  It's very irritating.

As I ponder this mythical, unicorn-like, Big Foot-ish, Loch Ness Monster-ey state of being, Being Of Service, I find that a great action to take is to quit viewing the world as if everything rotates around me.  This is especially helpful when I'm dealing with other people, who are the worst.  They get in my way and hinder my progress toward getting everything I want and avoiding everything that is painful.

The point that I'm trying to make - believe it or not there is a point to this screed - is that people aren't thinking about me.  I can quit ascribing evil motives to everything they do.  They're thinking about themselves, just as I'm thinking about myself.

For a guy who NEVER thinks about anyone else it's surprising that I think everyone else is ALWAYS thinking about me.

Summer Atire

I'm not much of a T-shirt guy in the summer.  I wear a T-shirt in the winter because a gentleman ALWAYS wears a T-shirt.  But in the summer guys with pecs and abs and six packs, whatever those things are, can wear tight fitting T-shirts.  Guys like me look a lot better in clothes that blouse and bag and billow.

That being said, I do have a few items that I trot out when the weather gets hot.  My favorite shirt is deep purple color and is emblazoned with the phrase: "Get Away From Me."  Some people think this is funny until I tell them that I don't mean it as a joke.

I wore this particular model to a meeting yesterday.  I stood next to a good friend for the closing prayer, draping my arm around his shoulder instead of holding his hand.  A new guy came over after the meeting and said: "That was great - I'm looking over at you in that shirt with your arm around someone."  A guy who knows me pretty well said: "That's Seaweed - always sending mixed messages."  It's not what I say - it's what I do.

Another favorite of mine says: "Ask Me About My Vow Of Silence."  A surprising number of earth people don't get the joke.  They ask me about my vow of silence and I have to explain that if I had indeed taken a vow of silence that I would have trouble explaining it to them.  Drunks, however, get it immediately, the cynical bastards.

Third on my greatest hits list is "It's All Fun and Games Until The Flying Monkeys Attack."  Go watch The Wizard of Oz if you don't get this reference, or try to replicate a particularly potent mix of Colt 45, LSD, and nitrous oxide that I used in college to simulate a disturbingly real seeming attack from flying monkeys and a whole hell of a lot of other disturbing images that I really don't want to go into right now.

 I have always regretted not buying the model that proclaimed: "I'm Big In Europe."

Honesty, Again, Again.

Honesty:  Honestly, I can't even bring myself to look up the definition of this word one more time.  The page that has the definition of honesty is dog-eared and cross-referenced and covered in notes and check marks.  I should have the definition committed to memory.  It won't help me to look up the definition one more time.

One of my friends gave me a call this week, upset about an incident at work.  He was supposed to deliver 10 items to a customer and realized that he was an item short.  Instead of informing his customer and changing the invoice to reflect the correct amount - the right but embarrassing thing to do - he decided that he would replace the omitted item on his next delivery.  I understand the thinking here: everything was going to be made right in the end, his customer none the wiser, and he wouldn't look foolish for messing up the order.  Technically, he was being honest; strictly speaking, he wasn't.

As he was leaving the store the inventory manager approached him and pointed out his mistake.  He tried to explain how he planned to correct the mistake the next day but he just looked like a dishonest delivery guy, a liar and a cheat who was trying to talk his way out of an unpleasant situation with more justification and more lies.  There really isn't any good way to extricate yourself from a lie that you've been caught in. You look like a liar who got caught and is trying to talk his way out of it.   There is nothing more distasteful than listening to a liar who got caught red-handed talk a mile a minute

I spent most of my waking hours enmeshed in those kind of situations in the past.  No matter how much explaining I did I got that distinct, shitty feeling that someone was looking at me and thinking: "This dude is a liar."  Once you get caught lying it's really, really hard to earn that trust back.  My friend's customer used to let him stock the shelves unsupervised, signing the invoice he presented without checking the inventory.  Not any more - someone from the store trails him as he makes his delivery, inconvenient for everyone involved.

This is why I try to tell the truth today.  Not because I enjoy telling the truth but because I really, really  hate getting caught in a lie.  I still do it sometimes, usually not deliberately, but I still do it.  Some bullshit will come flying out of my mouth before I can get it stopped.  I'm usually trying to appear smarter than I am, just like my friend.  I'm afraid of looking foolish or incompetent.  I'm afraid of making mistakes.

I'm still a pretty good liar.

Soapbox Seaweed

Service:  Helpful, beneficial, or friendly action or conduct; act giving assistance or advantage to another.

I continue to ask my HP for the wisdom and serenity to help me be of service to my fellow man to the best of my ability.  I continue to have almost no clue as to what this means.  I see that the very natural, very normal egocentricity that all men and women have, and that I have in glorious, spectacular, transcendent excess (as demonstrated by my use of way too many flowery adjectives), is going to fight a bloody war with my attempts to develop a spiritual life.  I care about me and you can go sit in the dirt for all I care.

It is NOT good service to try to convince people to do things that you think they should do.  This is grade school bullying.  This is delusional thinking from a guy who doesn't know where he left the glass of water that he got for himself 3 minutes a go.  This is not the guy you want directing your life.  This is the guy that needs a nanny to get him off the soapbox that he is standing on.  He should not be on the soapbox.  He might fall off.  He should be under the soapbox listening to someone who knows what they're talking about; a emotionally unbalanced doomsday preacher spouting apocalyptic bullshit would have a better plan for your life than I would.

That being said, let me make a few suggestions as to how your day would go better . . . 

More Irritating Things

Purpose:  The object for which something exists or is done; end in view.
Real:         Anything that actually exists or reality in general.

"Our real purpose is to fit ourselves to be of maximum service to god and the people about us."

"Were we thinking of ourselves most of the time?  Or were we thinking of what we could do for others, of what we could pack into the stream of life?"


Let's take a closer look at some of the thoughts expressed in these passages from our literature.  Being smarter than the average bear - or at least no longer being the stupidest bear in the forest - I'm pretty sure that I can improve on most of the sentiments that our founders came up with.  I'm pretty clever that way, the knowing better than everyone else way.

To wit:  my real purpose is to manipulate the world and the people so that they are of maximum service to me.  This is in their best interests even though they don't know this.  That's a better plan.  That benefits me in a tangible way that I can appreciate.

Were we thinking of others most of the time?  Most of the time?  I think I've improved greatly, seeing as I no longer think about myself all of the time.  It's a special day indeed when I'm only thinking of myself most of the time.  Because this is a stupid question that would only waste my time and energy I'm going to skip ahead to the next irritating phrase.

Actually, I believe that I'm going to stop here.  I have a full day planned trying to get those around me to do a really excellent job of packing good things into the stream of my life.

Honest? Really?

I am in the middle of the vetting process so that I can be a recovery volunteer in the jail system here in The New City.  It has been surprisingly rigorous although this should make sense.  The law probably looks askance at unprepared outsiders staggering around their system, especially ones like me who think they know everything about everything, always.


Anyway, the application asked for the names, phone numbers, and addresses of two personal references.  I put down the names of two buddies from The Program, one of them my New City sponsor.  I listed their names and phone numbers accurately - they're people I'm in touch with frequently - but I totally made up their addresses which I didn't feel like looking up.  I hate jumping through hoops to provide information that no one will ever look at, being an efficient German peasant, although the lying part is in direct conflict with my Teutonic inclination to honesty.  I'm not even going to talk about the importance of honesty in my Program based recovery.  Just because it's on my anniversary coin or mentioned about 1000 times in The Steps doesn't mean it's important.  


"Grumble, grumble," I grumbled, looking up the correct addresses.  The application was annoyingly long as it was.  They asked some weird questions, including my favorite color, and also what I would do if one of the inmates interrupted a meeting by banging their hand on the desk, standing up, and approaching me menacingly.


"If what happened now?" I asked.  

The program coordinator, of course, mails out two applications to my two references.  I was glad that I took the time to look up the correct addresses,  although one of the guys told me that he hadn't had to lie this extensively on a legal document in a long time, and he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself as he said it.

The coordinator told me that the two references were almost identical, a fact that surprised me.  Both of them mentioned a sense of humor and I'm glad to hear that.  It's a trait that I'm proud of although I'm not sure that taking a great deal of pleasure in making sarcastic comments until someone is on the verge of tears qualifies as much of a strength.


Both references also mentioned my honesty.  I almost laughed out loud.  This is a term that is often used to describe me and it always surprises me since I consider myself a world class liar.  I believe that the concept of honesty as applied to me means that I'm open abut my mistakes and my shortcomings, and I'm honest about how I'm feeling.  This helps me the most, of course, because I never want to be complacent about where I am in my recovery and in my spiritual growth.  


Proud, yes; confident, certainly; smug, NEVER!

A Family Affair

Disinterested:  Not influenced by personal interest or selfish motives; impartial; unbiased.


I'm struggling with my aging parents again today.  My increasingly feeble father loses his balance and takes the occasional spill, which is no small matter for an 85 year old.  They want very much to stay in their current home or they're very afraid to move somewhere else, one or the other.  I'm thinking it's the latter.  I'd like them to move someplace that provides help for older adults but they don't seem to be heeding my sage advice.  Everyone knows how dead on my advice is when it comes to how other people should live their lives.  All you have to do is look at the roaring success I've made of my life to speculate on how good my advice would be to you as to how you should live your life.


I've done my best to present options to them over the last several years, from retirement homes should they desire to move as well as service providers who will visit to provide virtually any kind of service they need if they want to live stay where they are.  And the results have been bupkis.  Nada.  Nothing.  Not a nibble, not a bite.  And they have a robust litany of reasons why these solutions wouldn't work for them.  So I'm having to walk the fine line between engagement and detachment.  It's a thin line some of the time.  It's a line when it's that's harder to walk when it's someone that you love.


It reminds me of my entrance into The Program.  Today I like how The Steps are in the first person plural.  We and Us are figured prominently, emphasizing that I'm in some trouble when I try to do this by myself.  But all of the We-s and Us-es that have helped me have talked and talked about personal responsibility.  The idea is that they are there to help but I'm expected to get to work.  It's a powerful mix of group and individual.  I make no progress without the help of others and I make no progress without taking a lot of action on my own.


If my folks want to stay where they are and not spend any money to get some outside help that's their choice, but they shouldn't expect people to drop everything when they need some help that otherwise would be provided.  It's uncomfortable for me to even say this.  I feel somewhat cruel.  So I get on the phone and talk to people who aren't as emotionally engaged as I am, including my sponsor, to get that disinterested third party perspective.  


I'll help a drunk out in any way I can but if he quits coming to meetings and gets a DUI at 3AM he knows not to call me.  I can do this because the drunk isn't my kin.  I certainly understand why someone would be upset if it was their child in the drunk tank at 3AM, but my disinterested advice is that our problems are of our own making.  Drive drunk - get arrested - sit in jail.


I called my sister who lives quite close to my folks.  She's carrying more of the burden than I am.  I wanted to offer my support.  People living without some Program don't have friends they can call to have uncomfortable behavior validated.  My sponsor - who is not emotionally involved with my parents - can offer sympathy and confirm that my behavior is good.  My sister doesn't have this network to lean on.   I thought it was important to give her a chance to share her frustration with someone who cares.


This is still playing out.

The Lead Singer for Metallica, Maybe.

Meditation:  Solemn reflection on sacred matters as a devotional act.


I have been attending an 11th Step meditation meeting on a regular basis.  Meditation is a funny thing.  It's an oddly difficult thing to do for a goal oriented, task driven German peasant like me.  I tend to think of things as having a start and a finish with concrete, verifiable processes and tasks and goals in between.  A leads to B and then right on through to Z.  There is the right way to do something and there is the wrong way to do something.  I've taken classes and read books on meditation.  I've tried to get my hands wrapped around the hows and whys of the practice.  What I've found, of course,  is that there isn't that much specific to learn about it.


It was either the venerable Dali Lama or the lead singer of Metallica who said something about people who meditate continuously for 10 or 15 years might begin to see some improvement in their technique, but it's no given.  The idea is that it's the process and not the finish that's important.  The means justify the ends.

Don't struggle.  Don't try.  Don't judge the results.  Don't force anything.  It's very difficult to prevent thoughts from coming into my consciousness so the advice is to let them come if they want to - I watch them come and I watch them go, without judgment.  Let them flow on by.  They aren't real.


Surprisingly difficult.