Step Six

When I face a challenging situation in my life I either try to ignore it, pretend it doesn't exist, or I attack it ferociously, try to bend it to my will.  This is the anti-definition of mindfulness.  This is not what brings me peace in the long run.  Calmness arrives in my life when I just look at something as some thing and don't attach a label to it.  It's a thing, that's all.  It isn't good and it isn't bad, it just is.  It won't last forever and it won't define me or kill me or ruin everything and it won't last forever - did I mention it won't last forever? -  and in all likelihood I won't remember a thing about it in a week.  In a year?  Forget about it.  It's gone.  Getting rid of my three favorite words - never, forever, always - isn't an easy task.

Step Six nuggets and tidbits and gems and flotsam and jetsam concerning willingness and how it differs from the action we actually take . . .  

"Therefore, it seems plain that few of us can quickly or easily become ready to aim at spiritual and moral perfection; we want to settle for only as much  perfection as will get us by in life, according, of course, to our various and sundry ideas of what will get us by.  This is the difference between striving for a self-determined objective and for the perfect objective which is of God."

My tendency is to avoid anything that I can't master completely.  If I'm not sure I'll succeed in this implausible way then I don't even get started.  Perfection?  Who can attain perfection at anything?  Perfection is a curse.  I try to get better, not perfect.

There are answers, of course: 

"The only urgent thing is that we make a beginning, and keep trying.  Open-mindedness!  It will seldom matter how haltingly we walk.  The only question will be 'Are we ready? Delay is dangerous, and rebellion may be fatal.  This is the exact point at which we abandon limited objectives, and move towards God's will for us."

The phrase "another pleasant rationalization" pops in, makes an appearance.  Nobody knows I'm an alcoholic!  Sure.  Sure, they don't.