NO.

I swim at an exercise club where I run into a lot of fellow Fellowship fellows.  I love bumping into other members out in the real world - it's always kind of a thrill and a quick boost of recovery Vitamin B12.  I wasn't even sure that this dude knew my name - I hadn't ever talked to him one on one even though I see him often.

In response to my query he said that he's in a good spot - temporarily, at least - grateful for all of the little blessings that we should be naturally grateful for but that seem to escape our attention most of the time.  I always talk about the fact that simple gratitude is such an alien concept to me that I have had to make a written gratitude list that I review each morning in my Quiet Time.  If I don't I don't do this my mind has a tendency to drift right to What's Wrong.  

And because I can't resist turning into Preacher Seaweed I mentioned that the real party trick is seeing something good when something bad happens.  Any idiot can be happy when said idiot is getting what I . . . er. . . he wants - it's moving through life's pain and unpleasantness to the good spot that eventually follows.  I actually apologized for bringing this up because it sounded kind of preachy - as in: "Oh, I'm glad you're grateful today but have you reached the PhD level of grateful that I've obviously attained?"

I have been to the doctor about a balky leg - nothing urgent, nothing mandatory but something that could be improved with a medical procedure.  There, waiting for me ominously, were two thick envelopes from my insurance company, telling me essentially: "No.  We're not paying for that" with very little in the way of an explanation as to how they reached this decision.

I was furious.  I was pissed.  I kept my mouth closed, not wanting to make things worse.  I made one call, keeping the volume down and the tone neutral, and moved on.  I know it's getting bad when SuperK slips into her office, closes the door, and clicks the lock.  This is a sure sign that I'm on the verge of something crappy.  It really is amazing how often I learn a lesson right after I proclaim how great I am learning lessons.  It's as if god is saying: "Oh, yeah?  Suck on this."

I sucked away.

Routinely Speaking

Routine:  A course of action to be followed regularly; a standard procedure.

This has always been a tough concept for me, one that's usually solved by trying to remember the concept of balance, also a tough concept.  I do have a tendency to swing ferociously between extremes befitting my reputation as an all-or-nothing kind of guy.  

I know that if I don't slot some activity into my schedule I don't have a good track record of getting the activity done, especially when the activity is hard or painful or time-consuming.  I had my swim slotted in this morning and I'll tell you my reaction, as I lowered myself into the cold water, many gasping laps ahead of me, was not: "Hurrah!  I get to flounder up and down my lane for the next 35 minutes."  I'm pretty sure that if I don't make it part of my routine it's not going to happen.

I'm that way with my Program, too.  While I enjoy the overall effect of meetings and phone calls and fellowship I'm not always fired up about the process.  Yesterday the alarm went off about 5AM which gives me enough time to creep around and still get there on time.  My reaction was more along the lines of: "%^&!!.  Are you %^&!! kidding me, you miserable %^&!! piece of %^&!!."  But I got up, got ready, and got to the meeting.  Glad I do.  Not slotted in?  Not going to go.

But I don't want to be a slave to my routine.  I usually get up but if I don't it's.  It's not the end of the world.

Massively Spiritual

I've always been grateful for the diversity of opinions and recovery experiences that I find in The Fellowship.  Early on I was militant about The Program Way - "do it like we do or you're doing it wrong" was the sub-context of my attitude - but I've come to embrace the "whatever works" style of recovery; as in, stay sober, get happy, keep doing what you're doing.  Who am I to say how each individual should work a recovery program?  All I can do is tell you what works for me.  If you like what you hear, great, give it a whirl.  If you don't, great, go talk to someone else.

What I don't do is second-guess how I manage to stay sober one day at a time.  I've been at this for a while and I know what works for me so I'm going to keep doing it.  I'm not going to mess around with the system - there's no advantage to me in doing this.  And I'm surely not going to mess around with whatever system you've glommed onto even if I disagree with it hook, line, and sinker.  Those of us who manage to stay sober for more than 20 minutes come up with something that works personally.

At my morning there's this insufferable ass who has been sober for a long, long time, the result of a particularly arrogant spiritual awakening that he feels compelled to jam down everyone's throat every time he talks.  His message - delivered ponderously, virtually word for word week to week at every meeting he attends - is this: "If you need The Program to stay sober then you've have had a weak and ineffective spiritual experience." He equates regular meeting attendance as some kind of moral weakness, substituting an addiction to alcohol for an addiction to meetings.

Because he's had such a monstrous spiritual explosion he feels comfortable taking a long hiatus from The Fellowship from .  While I try to overcome my strong desire to assassinate the character of every character I run into I confess to a deep wish that this dude take another long hiatus.  I'm not sure how helpful it is to anyone to come into The Rooms, full of shaky newcomers, and criticize the whole system.  I see the intent behind his words - take good care of your spirituality - but I don't appreciate the implication that a spiritual experience is all that's required to live a full and happy life.  I didn't go to a meeting yesterday because I was afraid I was going to drink - I went because I enjoy the fellowship and the camaraderie, I hear things that are helpful as I continue to grow, and maybe . . . maybe . . . I can pass some of what I've learned on to people just getting started.  If we all had spiritual experiences so massive that we didn't feel the need to fellowship then where would the newcomer get his start?

To me The Fellowship is like going to church or joining a meditation group or staying fit in a class full of other people who are trying to stay fit - I can do this stuff alone, and I often do, but I find a lot of strength in being part of something larger.

Eh.

Check

There's a very popular personality test in the business world called Meyers-Briggs.  This theory separates individuals into sixteen separate categories and apparently can be helpful as one tool in determining which people might be the best fit for different kinds of tasks.  For instance, someone who chafes at authority could be a liability in a tight hierarchical structure or a strong extrovert probably should be assigned to a job that requires that he work from home.  

I've taken this test a few times and I always come out as an INTJ, one of the least common personality types.  Once, I tried to force the answers a little bit, change things around to see if I could alter my type just slightly.  Didn't budge.  Now, I'm not someone who believes the world can be neatly fit into little boxes so I take this information with a grain of salt, whatever that means.  Still, I ascribe to the theory that I have some base material to work with.  If I'm a formless lump of papier-mache I can try to mold myself into a small statue of Adonis but I'm never going to transform into a small granite statue of Adonis and - let's face it - Adonis is probably not going to be the end result of any sculpting that I do.  Horseface Steve, maybe, but not Adonis.

Still, I looked up the psychological classification of an INTJ and I was stunned at how accurate it was.  I always knew I was an introvert, someone who "generally prefers interacting with a few close friends rather than a wide circle of acquaintances, and expends energy in social situations (whereas extroverts gain energy)."

Check.

Apparently INTJs also tend to "be more abstract than concrete.  They focus their attention on the big picture rather than the details."  I can't tell you how often I decide to do something, collect a lot of information, then bog down and quickly tire of all the the little, miserable, fucking useless bits of detritus that make up the project.  If SuperK doesn't follow through and there's even one hindrance I lose interest and move on to the next thing.

Check!

And we "tend to value objective criteria above personal preference or sentiment.  When making decisions we generally give more weight to logic than to social considerations."  Ah, can you come up with a more sanitized way to say: "Doesn't give a shit what anyone thinks of him?"  Sometime I feel kind of cold and calculating and that's probably because I'm a little cold and calculating.

Check!  Check!!

"INTJs tend to plan their activities and make decisions early.  They derive a sense of control through predictability which to creative types may seem limiting."  Uh, can you say "control freak?"

Checccccccckkkkkkkk!!!!

The point here, I think, is that I can't reinvent the wheel.  One of the most complimentary things my wife ever said about me was in response to the question: "What is Seaweed like at home?"  I had probably done something borderline in a public place.  "This is what he's like at home," she said.

I realize I've gotten a little hypothetical here but I really do think it's important to know who I am as best as I can.  I'm never going to be a different type of person - I can learn to behave differently but not to be someone who I'm not.

Keep Your Options Open or Make a Decision - One or the Other

I've enjoyed pondering the difference between people who delay decisions - preferring to keep their options open in case something better comes along - with folks like me who make decisions early and stick with the plan.  For the most part I'm glad I'm wired like that - I pick an option and I sail blithely ahead, not worrying overly much about what the consequences are, even though I know the consequences have often sucked the big one.  I wonder how much of this is due to my core being and how much is due to the fact that I've come to learn I can't predict outcomes.  All I can do is take appropriate steps - "do the next right thing" some asshole once told me - and move forward into my day.  I just don't see that I can figure out what's going to happen next.  I can't count all of the times that I made a good, solid, well-reasoned decisions only to have the project blow the %$!! up and I certainly can't count all the times some awful, disastrous, just-kill-me outcome ended up being in my best interest in the long run.  I don't know shit about shit, basically.

Because I don't learn anything by thinking I have to see life in action to find out how things work.  To wit: my dear friend Elder Low retired a few years ago from a job that required him to relocate frequently, the downside being that he never really had a home base, a landing pad, a permanent home.  Being a "keep all my options open" kind of guy he has spent the last couple of years scouring the country, making an exhaustive study of every possible eventuality, often retracing once-rejected locations to take a second look.  As a "make a decision" kind of guy my inclination has been to say "make a decision."  I don't think I did this - I hope I didn't do this - because it would be unfair and presumptuous for me to ask someone to run counter to their core being.  I don't have a very good idea how the mind of a "keep all my options" person operates so I'm the last person qualified to dole out advice on what they should do.

Ironically, the dude is going to settle in a place that I thought would have been a great choice two years ago and while I'm sure he's happy to have made the decision, I can only assume that he's probably wondering if he really, truly did properly vet all of the possibilities, true to his essence to the end.  My inclination in this instance is to think: "See? I really did know better."

But here's the flip side to "make a decision:" sometimes you make a crappy decision and stick with it far, far too long.  When I was a boy I decided that I was going to study to become an optometrist.  There was nothing inherently wrong with this decision - I would have had a good, stable job that would have let me - the first person in my family to pursue an advanced degree - lead a comfortable life.  I also had some practical considerations to make - my schooling was expensive and I didn't have the luxury of flip-flopping around.  That being said I picked something that required me to study things that I disliked studying and had no natural aptitude for.  I struggled and failed.  A "keep all your options open" guy like Elder Low was probably tempted to say: "Move on, chump, cut your losses and move on"  long before the whole thing crumbled.  At the same time I watched him cycle through a number of career possibilities before finding a niche for which he was well-suited  and where he thrived.  He kept his options open, didn't hang around overly long and it was the best thing to do.  I made a decision, stuck with it forever, and it was not the best thing to do.  Moreover, it took me several years after that to find my niche - one that had been suggested to me by many, many people, by the way.

One of the great attractions of The Fellowship is that as a general rule we simply say: "This is what I did.  This is what worked for me."  We don't presume to know what's going to work well for someone else.  We don't have that kind of wisdom and foresight.  Oh, sure, we stumble into the right answer from time to time but that's more luck than talent.  We listen, we share our experience, strength, and hope, and we keep our mouths shut.  Or try to, at least.

Seaweed - Done Diddly Done

To a certain degree I believe that I am who I am at this point.  I understand that I still need to change, that I have the capacity, the obligation, to keep trying to file off the rough edges and grow spiritually, keep trying to enjoy new experiences.  Still, mainly due to intransigence and old age, I see that I'm not going to be able to reinvent the wheel.  This isn't all bad - I pretty much like who I've become, after all - and it's in my best interest to quit fighting nature and nurture.

I've been trying to reduce my coffee consumption for several hundred years.  I don't drink that much coffee - well within any limits that would be considered excessive or abnormal - but I drink more than I should, which is any at all.  I am not a dude who needs coffee to function; if anything, coffee speeds me up to an excessive degree.  I'm like an engine being spun up to 125% of capacity.  Maybe the engine won't fly apart and maybe it won't but what's the point? is the point.  It makes me feel good - briefly - and then it doesn't.  I know this intellectually but I still drink too much coffee.

SuperK is normal with her food and fluids intake.  She isn't addicted to anything, a significant, statistical difference from me, a dude who is addicted to everything that makes me feel different. Recently she decided to test out a minor hypothesis that she'd feel better physically if she quit coffee for a while.  She gets up the next morning, has a cup of tea, and toodles off into her future.  I felt like throttling her.  I mean . . . are you kidding me?  That is messed up.

My mother - god rest her soul - used to tell me every other time I spoke with her that she was going to start walking, that she knew it would make her feel better.  She repeated this for 20 years despite the fact that if one added up the total mileage of all the walks she took during that time it would have added up to about 1.63 miles.  I got to the point where I simply agreed with her even though I knew she should either start walking or stop worrying about it.

Step Six Step Six Step Six

Were entirely ready to have god remove all of these defects of character.  (Ed. Note: This is not a direct Seaweed quote.  Really.   No shit.  Google it up.  Just trying to be honest here).

Ready:  Prepared for immediate action or use.
All:    Every individual or anything of the given class, with no exceptions.

We read Step Six this morning, one of the throw-away steps.  I make this judgment because the topic is covered so scantily in the Main Book it must not be that important.  Right?  Right?

I have a tendency to re-imagine this Step as: "Demanded that god immediately remove every single defect of character that I'm ready to have removed."  This is why I'm not a consultant for The Fellowship.  I don't get what we're trying to do from time to time.  The Willingness Step tells me that I need to prepare myself, as best as I can, by working the inventory process, to be in a position where my higher power can remove whichever of my defects of character that he sees fit to remove, at a time and place of his choosing with absolutely no input from me whatsoever.  

I found that some came right out; others have lingered like a bad chest cold; and a few have hung in there like grim death.  There is a general consensus that this is as it should be, that we're looking to achieve a perfect ideal with the realization that we're always going to be a work in progress.  In addition, many of us believe that it's only by grappling with these defects can we grow spiritually; as in, "pray for patience and god puts you in long lines."

I also believe that every single one of my defects of character is latent in my body, ready to burst out, fully formed and malevolent as ever, at the slightest provocation.  It has only been by sustained effort and repeated practice that I've been able to put these wild beasts into strong cages, so to speak.  I know they cause a ton of damage and make me feel bad about myself, that it's in my best interest to keep 'em tied down, yet from time to time I walk over, put the key in the padlock, and set 'em rambling.

Work in progress. 

Searching For Loopholes

Practice:  Repetition of an activity to improve skill.
Principle:  Moral rule or aspect.
All:  Everything possible.

I was at a meeting last night - coughing discretely in the back row, especially when someone irritating was sharing, a common occurrence when the person sharing isn't . . . you know . . . me - digging on the great topic of "practicing these principles in all of our affairs."  I like the word "practice" which seems to give me the leeway to screw up continuously while still trying to get better.  I don't like the word "principles" because there's a vile stench of ethical behavior hanging about its nadir like an evil fog.    I really don't like the word "all" which doesn't give me any wiggle room to act jerkishly.

How about "practice some of these principles occasionally, when it's convenient?"

There was also a dude there who took a 6 year coin.  He's very active in The Fellowship, one of those dudes who always just shows up.  I thought the two topics/shares were two peas in a pod.  You know, it's not like I would drink if I missed my regular Wed evening meeting but I want to avoid even the slightest lessening of my vigilance about my Program - if I slack tonight maybe it's a little bit easier to slack tomorrow, until I find myself far down the slippery slope .  I don't mean to suggest that I worry if I miss my recovery obligations when I'm sick or traveling or have some important personal commitment but that I really work on that consistency.  It has worked for me for over 27 years so I'm not going to tinker with the formula.

The segue with the principle-practicing part of the meeting's festivities is that I do shoot for that perfectly ethical, moral target, the one that feels right to me.  There are so many behaviors that have nuance, that allow me to justify less than righteous behavior.  For instance, when I was drinking I gossiped all the time - malicious, character-assassination gossip meant to hurt and injure.  Slowly, slowly, sloooooowly I got to the point where my gossip fell under the category of "suggesting to a third party in the most constructive way how an absent gossipee could improve if they would only %^!! do things differently."  Is this improvement?  Sure.  Is this particularly ethical behavior?  Uh . . . no.  Today I try to never, ever talk about anyone unless I'd be comfortable repeating what I'm saying with that individual right there.  Better, but not a finished product.  I still find that I have to call my sponsor to let loose a torrent of invective about someone who is doing something that really sticks in my craw so I'm not over the belief that I do know how someone else should behave, a laughable concept.

Dying, Eventually

Familiarity Breeds Contempt - maxim attributed to the great Greek philosopher, Seaweedius.

In the gratitude list part of my morning meditation I always express thanks for my health, a blessing heaped upon my brow in a great quantity.  I've been more than annoyingly sick or injured a couple of times in my life although to hear me wail, I'm cursed with the constitution of a leper.  This is one of those thank-yous that I get through quickly as in "yeah, yeah, glad I'm healthy and all that bullshit but not take care of this problem."  Yesterday was the first day that I believed that this cold wasn't going to plant me six feet under and I was positively ecstatic about it as in "hey, I'm not going to die."

Well, I'm going to die . . . maybe . . . but I don't think the cold is going to get me.

When I'm moved to complain I often think of Ken.  That guy did not complain.  That guy died of cancer and he did not complain.  He groused a couple of times and then apologized for it immediately, unaware that I was trying to figure out how to talk about how some little perceived insult in my life was eating my lunch.

SICK!

I'm sick.  I'm pretty damn sick.  I'm SICK!!  SICK!!  I'm one of those fortunate people who doesn't get every cold that drifts by and I generally slough off those that I do pick up.  This cold, however, is a mother - I'm pretty sure that there are several billion demons with red-hot, poison-tipped pokers tormenting the lining of my lungs.  I would have guessed by now that they'd grow tired of this torture but apparently not.

I get sullen and unresponsive when I'm ill - SuperK complains loudly, leading one to believe she's dying.  

"For chrissake it's just a cold," I mutter.

"For godsake quit coughing," she seethes.

I'll leave it up to you to decide which is more irritating.

Angry, Yelling Seaweed!!

A few nights later - still doing fine, no problems at all, "nothing to look at here, folks, please move along!" - I toodled into my regular Wednesday night meeting, aware that I was still a little off my game, that I shouldn't . . . you know . . . open my mouth and talk.  A solid member was chairing the meeting so I thought it was going to be safe to sit quietly,  listen and learn.  Then, dude sitting next to me, in the front row, in full view of everyone, starts messing around with his cell phone.  It really, really annoys me when people sit in a meeting and mess around on a cell phone, especially in the front row - if you're going to blatantly not listen to what someone is saying at least have the courtesy to tuck yourself into an obscure corner.  I figure that it would only be slightly less disrespectful to bring in a newspaper to read, or to watch a football game on a portable The TV as long as you're using a headset.  I understand that you can mess around on a phone and listen to the meeting proceedings, kind of, sort of getting the drift of what's being said, but I simply don't believe that very many of us are so important that we can't get through an hour without communicating with the outside world.  I didn't see any emergency room surgeons or diplomats negotiating international arms treaties present that night.  If people were doing that when I was new and trying to hork up the courage to share, to bear my soul, to talk in front of a group, I don't know if I would have come back.  I realize cell phone use is more ubiquitous and accepted now, and I have to balance that with some rules of common courtesy.

"Don't talk, don't talk, don't say anything," I was mumbling to myself as I leaned in and quietly said: "Could you not do that?"  Dude whispers back that he was just doing something or the other, an explanation that I didn't listen to because, frankly, I didn't care what he was doing.  Put the phone down!  Dude was a big dude; dude shared later about spending a couple of years in prison; Seaweed Dude started to regret sticking his nose into Prison Dude's business.  I mean - who made me President of The Fellowship?

(Ed. Note: I spoke to the guy after the meeting, apologized halfheartedly, more out of fear that genuine regret, and we seemed to clear the air and come away with no hard feelings - whew.  

Ed Note to Self: don't say anything to big dudes until sure that there isn't a long history of felonious violence to consider).

Left shoe in mouth, I pondered the possibility of also getting my right shoe in there - I have a pretty big mouth so this is definitely a doable action.  Next up was a mentally ill woman who has gotten on literally everyone's last nerve at every meeting she attends - she always talks, she never talks about recovery, and she has a tendency to go off on side rants about religion and how terribly the world treats her.  Tonight, very agitated, she begins to disparage a private clubhouse in the area that, finally exasperated, banned her from the premises.  The chairperson started to interrupt after a few minutes, reminding her of the 3 minute-to-share rule, when she jumps up from her seat and dances around, declaring that she WAS going to talk, that no one could stop her from talking.

I seethed.  I roiled.  I had had enough, I couldn't keep the damn mouth shut any longer.  "Jane Doe, please sit down," I said pretty loudly.  "Please sit down and be quiet!" I said very loudly when she tried to talk over me.  This went on for 30 seconds or so, a few other members beginning to chime in, before she said: " Thanks for letting me share," and sat down.

So . . . what happened there?  Did I do the old-timer thing and help maintain order in the meeting?  Or did I decide that I was the arbiter of good behavior, that it was my job to run things?  Did someone new see a good member acting appropriately or an angry man yelling at a woman who was trying to speak?  I don't know the answer to that.

I didn't talk at the meeting this morning, I'll tell you what.