More Promises . . . So Many Promises . . .

"We realize we know only a little.  God will constantly disclose more to you and to us.  See to it that your relationship with God is right, and great events will come to pass for you and countless others.  This is the Great Fact for us."

I have a young friend in my morning meeting who is trying to settle into a career.  She left a job selling alcohol to one selling energy drinks, a more appropriate position, granted, but she didn't enjoy the new work and decided to take an offer with a milk company not long after leaving her first job.  I relate to this Need for Speed, this desire to get more of what I want and avoid more of what is painful.  My  problem is that after I've prayed and meditated on a decision or action, after I've talked to friends and sponsors and trusted advisors, after writing about the choice I'm facing, I sometimes mistake my spiritual fitness - my perceived spiritual fitness - with some misguided guarantee that I'm going to get what I want and avoid what I don't want.  

Shee-it.  That's not how spirituality works.

The Bludgeoning

Faced with alcoholic destruction, we soon become as open-minded on spiritual matters as we had tried to be on other questions.  In this respect alcohol was a great persuader.  It finally beat us into a state of reasonableness.

Thirty eight years of meetings and I've never heard anyone say: "Everything in my life was great: wife loved me, kids worshipped me, superstar at work, plenty of money and a nice place to live, no troubles with the law outside of an occasional parking ticket . . . . what the hell - I think I'll go to Alcoholics Anonymous." We have been beaten into a state of reasonableness. We do not come into The Rooms on a winning streak.

Beat: Strike repeatedly and violently so as to hurt or injure, typically with an implement such as a whip or a club. (Ed. Note: I thought an implement was like a spatula or stir stick. Apparently it can also be a club for beating alcoholics.)

So it is by circumstance rather than by any virtue that we have been driven to A.A.  Chances are that the alcoholic has become convinced that he has more problems than alcohol, and that some of these refuse to be solved by all the sheer personal determination and courage he can muster.  A dependence on a higher power was their chief source of strength.

We were in a position where life was becoming impossible and if we had passed into the region from which there is no return through human aid, we had but two alternatives: one was to go on to the bitter end, blotting out the consciousness of our intolerable situation as best we could, and the other, to accept spiritual help.

To be doomed to an alcoholic death or to live on a spiritual basis are not always easy alternatives to face. 

Under the lash of alcoholism . . .  The idea that somehow, someday he will control and enjoy his drinking is the great obsession of every abnormal drinker.  The persistence of this illusion is astonishing.  Many pursue it into the gates of insanity or death.

Death or spirituality? THIS is a difficult choice?! We really ARE hardheads.

Recovering alcoholic: "Okay, here are your options. Keep drinking and end up dead, in jail, or a mental institution or accept some kind of spiritual assistance." Newcomer (long pause): "Can I get back to you on that?" Yeah, we're not the sharpest tacks in the box.

Why don’t you try some more controlled drinking?

Absolutely unable to stop drinking on the basis of self-knowledge.

We alcoholics have lost the ability to control our drinking.  We know that no alcoholic ever recovers control.

However intelligent we may have been in other respects, wherever alcohol has been involved, we have been strangely insane.

Most of us have tried everything. Everything. Whatever you're thinking of trying that will enable you to keep drinking and drinking responsibly someone here has tried out. You're probably out of options but go ahead . . . try something else.

Someone who knew what he was talking about once remarked that pain was the touchstone of all spiritual progress.

I Wish . . . I Wish . . .

 As I was going up the stair,                                                                                                                           I met a man who wasn’t there.                                                                                                                  He wasn’t there again today.                                                                                                                       I wish, I wish he’d stay away.

This is me.  I'm a nursery rhyme.  I'm mad at people who aren't there and then I don't want them to come back and this makes perfect sense to me.

No, Seriously, I'm Not God?

 No man, we saw, could believe in God and defy him, too.  Belief meant reliance, not defiance. 

Defiance is an outstanding characteristic of alcoholics. (Editor's Note: I love the use of the word "outstanding." It almost sounds like we're praising our defiance. "Good job, Seaweed. Outstanding defiance.")

Much to our relief, we discovered we did not need to consider another’s conception of God.

Reliance: Confident or trustful dependence.

Defiance: Bold disobedience; open defiance.

We do talk a lot about God. We do allow everyone to come up with a Higher Power in whatever shape, guise, or form that makes sense to them. We do make it hard to argue about why it's impossible to come up with a working Higher Power. We are irritating as hell a lot of the time.

In belaboring the sins of some religious people, we could feel superior to all of them.  Moreover, we could avoid looking at some of our own shortcomings.  This, of course, is the process by which instinct and logic always seek to bolster egotism, and so frustrate spiritual development.

We saw them meet and transcend their other pains and trials.  We saw them calmly accept impossible situations, seeking neither to run or recriminate. 

There are many, many references in the literature to our tendency to lump people into overly broad categories, to stereotype them. In any group you're going to find people in the middle and people lurking on the dark edges. If you want to find a reason to reject something you'll find a reason. The task is to find the good and set aside the bad, whatever your definitions of those categories might be. Quit focusing on the negative and start accentuating the positive. Which is a song, I think.

Knowledge was all-powerful.  Intellect could conquer nature.  Since we were brighter than most folks (so we thought) we could float above other people on our intellect alone. 

The first requirement is that we be convinced that any life run on self-will can hardly be a success.

How persistently we claim the right to decide all by ourselves just what we shall think and just how we shall act.  We are certain that our intelligence, backed by willpower, can rightly control our inner lives and guarantee success in the world we live in.  This philosophy of self-sufficiency is not paying off.  Plainly enough, it is a bone-crushing juggernaut whose final achievement is ruin.

Bone-crushing:  Powerful or constricting enough to crush one's bones; extremely painful, troublesome, or costly.

Juggernaut:  A massive inexorable force that crushes anything in it's path; a force considered to be merciless, destructive, and unstoppable.

Ruin:  The state of disintigrating or being destroyed.

Lots of very smart people never get sober.  Lots of people who have achieved a lot in the physical, material sense by working hard and applying their will in a fearsome boa constrictor death grip never get sober.  Lots of people who are too smart and too willful die of their disease.  No one too dumb to get it.

Wait a Minute . . . I'm NOT God?

This is the how and why of it.  First of all, we had to quit playing God.  It didn’t work.

We had to fearlessly face the proposition that either God is everything or else He is nothing.  God either is, or He isn't.

For an organization that insists it has a message which is spiritual in nature we do talk an awful lot about God with a capital G. It is a great conundrum. I see the whole God component as the source of recovery for most of us who claim Alcoholics Anonymous as our guiding light while simultaneously being the factor that drives more people away than any other. As a kid who grew up believing in a God I confess to struggling sometimes with this resistance. I get it if someone doesn't want to believe in some kind of official, rules-based God but to deny that there isn't some kind of power greater than my own self designing things or running things or overseeing things strains my credulity from time to time. As a scientist I've studied how the body works in detail and the complexity and beauty of the whole operation astounds me. To think this is somehow random is hard for me to do. But that's just me. I don't even talk in such generalities in a meeting. I don't want to give anyone an excuse to walk away from The Rooms even if I think that the excuses are sometimes flimsy.

Lack of power, that was our dilemma.  Faced with alcoholic destruction, we soon became as open minded on spiritual matters as we had tried to be on other questions.  In this respect alcohol was a great persuader.  It finally beat us into a state of reasonableness.

The minute I stopped fighting or arguing, I could begin to see and feel.  We trust infinite God rather than our finite selves.  We are in the world to play the role God assigns.  Just to the extent that we do as we think he would have us, and humbly rely on him, does he enable us to match calamity with serenity.

Destruction: The action or process of causing so much damage to something that it no longer exists or cannot be repaired.

Calamity: An event causing great and often sudden damage or distress; a disaster.

Beat: Strike repeatedly and violently so as to hurt or injure, often with a club or whip.

Fight: Take part in a violent struggle involving the exchange of physical blows or the use of weapons.

Argue: To express diverging or opposite views, typically in a heated or angry way.

I think I'm just going to let the definitions speak for themselves as a rationale for trying to avoid finding a Higher Power to lean on.

‘Why can’t we take a specific and troubling dilemma straight to God, and in prayer secure from Him sure and definite answers to our requests?

We have seen A.A.’s ask with much earnestness and faith for God’s explicit guidance on matters ranging all the way from a shattering domestic or financial crisis to correcting a minor personal fault, like tardiness.  The thoughts that seem to come from God are not answers at all.  They prove to be well-intentioned unconscious rationalizations.

I get it that people who fight the concept of a "god" can take a look around and find religious figures who behave in non-godlike ways. It's not hard. There are plenty of flawed people in the world and some of them have a public presence so if you're looking for reasons not to do something you'll be able to find them. Personally, I think most of these folks have good intentions. Personally, I think I have good intentions. I have heard, however, that the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.

We discover that we receive guidance for our lives to just about the extent that we stop making demands upon God to give it to us on order and on our terms.

An Allergy and An Obsession

 Absolutely unable to stop drinking on the basis of self-knowledge.

The delusion that we are like other people, or presently may be, has to be smashed. 

Why don’t you try some more controlled drinking?

The tyrant alcohol wielded a double-edged sword over us; first we were smitten by an insane urge that condemned us to go on drinking, and then by an allergy of the body that insured we would ultimately destroy ourselves in the process.

. . . their problems pile up on them and become astonishingly hard to solve.

A beloved sponsor once recommended that I ask new people to read The Doctor's Opinion which helps explain what the problem is for alcoholics. We have an "allergy" to alcohol - we react to it in a distorted and exaggerated manner - and we have an "obsession" as well - once we drink our minds are drawn to more alcohol like a moth to a flame. We vaguely understand that we're going to die if we fly into the flame but this fear is overrriden by the desire to drink more. We are not like other people. We are definitely not like other people. We are so not like other people and it's the combination of allergy and obsession that's so confounding. We use the peanut allergy analogy a lot: someone eats some peanuts and has an allergic reaction. Their throat closes, they gasp for air, they almost die. Then . . . they go out to the peanut store and buy several large bags of peanuts in case someone "stops by" and wants to eat peanuts.

. . . so far as alcohol is concerned, self-confidence is no good whatsoever.

He has been convinced that he has more problems than alcohol, and that some of these refuse to be solved by all the sheer personal determination and courage he can muster.

 

The Rooms are full of smart, hard-working men and women who deal with life in perplexing and self-destructive ways.  Most of us find we can't think our way out of this mess.  We can't "buckle down" and solve the condundrum by "working harder" and using our willpower and intellect.  We're smart but we still can't find the inner resources to quit drinking.  It's baffling.  We can't figure it out.  We don't get it.  We're fucking confused as hell.

Men and women drink essentially because they like the effect produced by alcohol.  The sensation is so elusive that, while they admit it is injurious, they cannot after a time differentiate the true from the false.

I was anxious, confused child and young adult, drowning in worry and fear, and then I drank some alcohol and the world made sense just like that.  I was relaxed and confident and self-assured.  I was momentarily pissed that the adults had kept this marvelous solution to all of life's problems from me but a little more alcohol solved that resentment right quick.

True:  In accordance with reality.  (How great is THAT definition?)

False:  Incorrect.  (I'm LMAO here.); Not real, but made to look or seem real.

WAY Too Much Talk About Free Throws

"The Buddha changes his entire way of practice.  He began to nourish and honor his body and spirit.  He remembered that he could rest in the universe rather than fight it.  He realized that awakening is never the product of force but arises through a resting of the heart and an opening of the mind.  There are two parallel tasks in spiritual life.  One is to discover selflessness, the other is to develop a healthy sense of self, to discover what is meant by true self.  Both sides of this apparent paradox must be fulfilled for us to awaken.  We begin to see how our own defenses and the wishes of others have eclipsed a true grounding in our own deepest experience.  Gradually, we can cease to identify with these old patterns and allow for a healthier sense of self."

Jack Kornfield

Paradox:  A seemingly absurd or self-contradictory statement or proposition that when investigated or explained may prove to be well-founded or true.

Oh, yeah.  Develop a healthy sense of self while beginning a lifetime devoted to selfless behavior.  Good luck with that.

Here are some thoughts by the Buddha on growing a spiritual practice . . .  

"The Buddha very frequently described spiritual practice as the cultivation of good qualities of heart and character.  Repeated cultivation is a basic principle of most spiritual and meditative paths.  In repeated meditations we can learn how to skillfully let go of fearful or contracted identities.  Whatever we practice we will become.  We can choose to strengthen our courage, loving-kindness, and compassion, evoking them in ourselves through reflection, meditation, attention, and repeated training.

Repeated.  Practice.  Cultivation.  There isn't a lot of sitting still in these concepts.  Rather there's a lot of . . .  well . . .  practice.  Repeated practice.  I played basketball in high school.  I played because I was tall and not because I had any physical qualities that made me a good basketball player.  I couldn't jump very high but I was taller than you so I got the ball a lot.  I also couldn't shoot the basketball what with all of the opposing players slapping at the basketball and shoving me around and putting their hands in my face but I did get fouled a lot because I understood that if I was between you and the basket I either got the basketball or you had to foul me to get to the basketball yourself and this meant Free Throws!  I liked free throws a lot.  No one could fuck with you when you were shooting free throws and I shot a lot of them and I made almost all of them.  Most of the time I had more points from shooting free throws than I did making baskets and this is no small feat because you get two points for scoring a basket but only one for making a free throw.  I'm pretty good at math so I knew I had better not miss too many free throws if I wanted an impressive box score and even then I never had an impressive box score.  Guess what I did when I was in the gym?  I shot a lot of free throws.  I practiced making free throws.

Practice:  The act of doing something regularly or repeatedly in order to increase your skill at doing it.

This is why we call it spiritual practice.  Most of us have lived less than exemplary lives of selfish behavior and most of us find we can't turn around this kind of self-centered behavior without a lot of practice.

Get to work, man.

Intuition and Inspiration

 As we go through the day we pause, when agitated or doubtful, and ask for the right thought or action.  We constantly remind ourselves we are no longer running the show.  We are in much less danger of excitement, fear, anger, worry, self-pity or foolish decisions.  We become much more efficient.  WWe do not tire so easily, for we are not burning up energy foolishly as we did when we were trying to arrange life to suit ourselves.

In thinking about our day we may face indecision. We may not be able to determine which course to take. Here we ask God for inspiration, an intuitive thought or a decision. We relax and take it easy. We don't struggle. We are often surprised at how the right answers will come after we have tried this for a while.

We will intuitively know how to handle situations which used to baffle us.

I remind myself that my Higher Power is a guiding force, a helping hand, a light shining through the murk and gloom. However, my Higher Power does not have a car or a phone or a bank account and has tasked me with the action-taking here on this mortal coil. I seek inspiration and intuitive thoughts but then I have to take action based on my own flawed and self-centered motives, or not take action as the case may be. This is how it is whether I like it or not. This is the human condition. I sense the presence of a god but I'm still a human, still subject to my many whims and foibles. I do the best I can. I sleep well.

Twisted Relationships and Total Inabilities

But it is from our twisted relations with family, friends, and society at large that many of us have suffered the most.  The primary fact that we fail to recognize is our total inability to form a true partnership with another human being.

Twisted: Forced out of its natural or proper shape; crumpled; (Of a personality or way of thinking) unpleasantly or unhealthily abnormal.

Total: Complete or absolute; including everything.

I've always been impressed with the inclusion of the adjective "total" in this passage; as in, we have no ability to form a healthy relationship with another human being. None. Zero. We took hostages or we prostrated ourselves to the will of others. We were never an equal. Never. We wanted to dominate or we allowed ourselves to be dominated. And isn't the word "twisted" a real beauty? Crumpled. I had a crumpled personality.

We have not once sought to be one in a family, to be a friend among friends, to be a worker among workers, to be a useful member of society.  Always we tried to struggle to the top of the heap, or to hide beneath it.  This self-centered behavior blocked a partnership relationship with any one of those about us.  Of true brotherhood we had small comprehension. 

Since defective relations with other human beings have nearly always been the immediate cause of our woes.

Defective: Not working properly.

Ha ha ha ha . . . . I enjoy the phrase "with other human beings." I like "immediate" and "woes." Woe is me! A defective relationship guy.

We were having trouble with personal relationships, we couldn’t control our emotional natures, we were a prey to misery and depression, we couldn’t make a living, we had a feeling of uselessness, we were full of fear, we were unhappy, we couldn’t seem to be of real help to other people . . .

Okay, I'm paying attention here: trouble, misery and depression, uselessness, fear and unhappiness . . . all good stuff, really good stuff. Why would I want to change my behavior and give up this stuff? Why did I ever think it was a good idea to continue my self-destructive behavior so I didn't have to give up this stuff? Good stuff!

Art, Baby, Art

 Criticism, a form of negative judgment, is absolutely out of our fellowship picture.

The practice of tolerance is a part of recovery.  It aids spiritual progress and helps us to control our emotions.  We do not believe that tolerance of improper situations makes good sense.  God gave us intelligence to determine between good and bad; therefore, we find as much harm in being tolerant of wrong thought or action as we find in intolerance of the right things.

I do not remember where I found these quotes so I was thinking of pretending they were my quotes but I don't think I'd fool many people. I'd fool Willie, of course - he's pretty stupid - but most of you would see right through my deception.

I continue to slowly, slowly make my way through a volume I bought at a thrift shop for $1.99 called The Reader's Digest of Great Painters. The book is divided into several sections and has about a page and a half on each painter with a few of the more noteworthy paintings or frescoes displayed. I have been using it as a starting point to dig a little more deeply into these masters, these portrayers of the existence of God or of some kind of higher power, if you will. Michaelangelo looked at a massive block of marble and saw his statue of The David encased within and understood that his task wasn't to carve a sculpture but rather to free the figure that already existed from its marble prison. C'mon, you're going to tell me with a straight face that this isn't a demonstration of the existence of something bigger than you? I mean . . . c'mon . . . give me a fucking break.

Once again this attempt of mine to use art, music, nature to grow my spirituality is working best if I don't try to overdo it, to remember everything, to understand everything, to look at every last damn painting the artist ever completed. I'm trying to wear the art world like a loose garment. Anyway, I finished a section on the Post-Impressionists and am starting to dabble in The Great Masters. We've all heard of Michaelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci but several of these men are/were unknown to me. A dude named Giotto stopped me in my tracks as if I was shot with an elephant gun. I had the opportunity to see The David in person many years ago and it rendered me speechless. It was that profound an experience to see that expression of God right in front of me and the statue is big, man, I mean really huge.

Dynamite. Destruction. Destroy, destroy, destroy!

Resent:  A complex, multilayered emotion that is a mixture of disappointment, anger, and disgust; to show displeasure and hurt or indignation at (some act, remark, etc.) or toward (a person) at a sense of being injured or offended; to feel bitter or angry at something, especially because you feel it is unfair.

Unfair!  Unfair!  You're cheating!  I deserved that and you didn't deserve that!  Mom, he's cheating!

Resentment is common to all alcoholics.  We are never safe from it and as intangible as it may seem, it does pay off in material ways with destructive force and energy.  Resentment is dynamite to the alcoholic.  Resentment is pure mental drunkenness.

Dynamite! Destruction! Good words! Boom, boom, ka-boom!

It destroys more alcoholics than anything else.  From it stem all forms of spiritual disease, for we have not only been mentally and physically ill, we have been spiritually sick.  

I like the word "destroy." Whew. I like the suggestion that resentment is the root cause of all forms of spiritual disease. Not some. Not a few. All. All is a lot.

We list people, institutions and principles with whom we were angry.  We ask ourselves why we were angry.

It is plain that a life which includes deep resentment leads only to futility and unhappiness.  To the precise extent that we permit these, do we squander the hours that might have been worthwhile.

Anger and futility and unhappiness, oh, my! Who in their right mind would want to give up those things? Squanderer! You squanderer! Squander away!

Squander: Waste in a reckless and foolish manner.

Has your life been any happier because of this resentment?

Taking poison and waiting for the other person to die. I'm guessing that maybe 10% of the people, places, and things that I've ever had a resentment against had any idea that they were on the receiving end of my resentment. Like the government cares if I resent paying my taxes. Yeah, that's going to change things.

He cannot afford to subject himself to self-pity because of its relationship to resentment and inferiority.

Few, if any, men or women escape this emotional monstrosity (jealousy).

I find it helpful to tease out the emotion of anger (a normal human attribute that none of us will ever completely get rid of) from the emotional time bomb of resentment (a normal human reaction if you're a self-centered, socially stunted, and emotionally immature alcoholic). Everybody gets angry from time to time but what are you gonna do with it? Explode? Yell and scream and belittle? Toss a punch? Ruin a relationship, a job, a just about everything?

Meditate on This!

 Criticism, a form of negative judgment, is absolutely out of our fellowship picture. The practice of tolerance is a part of recovery.  It aids spiritual progress and helps us to control our emotions.  We do not believe that tolerance of improper situations makes good sense.  God gave us intelligence to determine between good and bad; therefore, we find as much harm in being tolerant of wrong thought or action as we find in intolerance of the right things.

I have tried from time to time to explain the mechanics of meditation to people who aren't currently meditating. I'm not sure I'm qualified to do this. I'm pretty sure I'm not qualified to do this. There is no way I'm qualified to do this. The looks on their faces! It's one of those things that it's best to just make a start in whatever way you can and see what happens. Most of my failed converts tend to think of meditation as replacing bad thoughts with good ones. Or driving all thoughts out of your mind and existing in kind of a thinking void. There's a lot of effort involved, a lot of concentrating and forcing the thinking into a template. In my experience the best way is to pay attention to my breath and watch what comes scrolling across the kyron of my mind, with no judgement or force. To say: "Huh. Look at that thought. I'll be doggoned such a thought" and then trying to refocus on the breathing. The harder I try to "do it right" the stupider it becomes. I like to use the analogy of beginning to train for a marathon after ten years of smoking cigarettes. The mind is not going to give up control willingly. The lungs aren't going to bounce back on the first day but going from no exercise to some exercise is beneficial as is the effort trying to quiet a screaming, gibbering mind by exhaling slowly and completely five times in a row. The improvement isn't dramatic but something happens that's good for me.

I think it's best to look up the definition of this esoteric and confusing practice after an esoteric and confusing attempt to explain what it is . . .

Meditation: A practice that entails focusing or clearing your mind using a combination of mental and physical techniques (The Cleveland Clinic); a practice in which an individual uses a technique to train attention and awareness and to detach from reflexive, discursive thinking (Wikipedia); a profound and extended contemplation or reflection in order to achieve focused attention or an otherwise altered state of consciousness (American Psychological Association and see how the medical establishment tends to complicate the hell out of everything?); a means of transforming the mind (The Buddhist Center and see how the Buddhists keep it as simple as possible?).

Some schools emphasize meditating on a text. Some on repeating a chanted word. Some on simply trying to be calm and clear in one's thinking. So the point is that no one really knows how to do it or explain it but it works! It really does!

A Searching and Thorough Personal Inventory

The whole personal inventory process that's so central to our recovery opens up many different avenues of reflection and channels of thought for me.  The following passages are taken from passages in our literature guiding us in these efforts.

"We are there to sweep off our side of the street realizing that nothing worthwhile can be accomplished until we do so, never trying to tell him what he should do.  His faults are not discussed.  We stick to our own.  We have made our demonstration, done our part."

Way: A method, style, or manner of doing something.

I have a way of approaching the world, of dealing with life, a way that has been tinkered with and distilled down to a way that makes sense to me at this time of my life. It's not the "right" way for anyone but me and not even that a lot of the time no matter how much I want that proposition to be true. I have to be on high alert that I'm not projecting a template of my way onto someone else, subjecting them to the ins and outs, the minutia and factoids of my way. They're going to have a way and they're going to have to figure that out all on their own. I can let them know my way and then they can take what they want - if they can indeed find out anything they want in my way - and leave the rest. This can be hard because I'm often dazzled and bejeweled with the mechanics of how I approach life. A guy in Chicago may or may not have said something like this to me early in my recovery: "Your life is a mess - maybe you better quit giving people advice on how to live their lives."

Some will object to many of the questions posed because they think their own character defects have not been so glaring.  To those it can be suggested that a conscientious examination is likely to reveal the very defects the objectionable questions are concerned with.

We shall claim that our serious character defects, if we think we have any at all, have been caused chiefly by excessive drinking.

. . . . his character defects, representing instincts gone astray , have been the primary cause of his drinking and his failure at life . . .

We learned that if we were seriously disturbed, our first need was to quiet that disturbance, regardless of what or who we thought caused it.

The moment we ponder a twisted or broken relationship with another person, our emotions go on the defensive.

. . . we must be sure that we cannot buy our own peace of mind at the expense of others.

These reminders are just so amazing! We deny that we have defects. If we can't get away with this we minimize the damage they have done to our personal relationships and standing in the world. And always . . . always . . . always . . . we point the finger at other people, places, and things. We drink because of You! It's not my fault! I'm not hurting anyone but myself so leave me alone! I was a soldier dug into a trench, keeping my head low, conserving my ammuntion, hanging tough and holding out, vaguely aware I was going to be slaughtered sooner rather than later but refusing to give in.

It reminds me of the time I was standing on the side of the road in a remote Kentucky state park that was located in a dry county when a cop rolled by. I set my beer on the ground, right at my feet, still sweating in the heat and humidity, and told the cop - right to his face - that I didn't know whose beer that was. So you can imagine that my first few swings at the personal inventory were a tad defensive.

The Actor

Each person is like an actor who wants to run the whole show; is forever trying to arrange the lights, the ballet, the scenery and the rest of the players in his own way.  If arrangements would only stay put, if only people would do as he wished, the show would be great.  Everybody, including himself, would be pleased.  Life would be wonderful.  In trying to make these arrangements our actor may sometimes be quite virtuous.  He may be kind, considerate, patient, generous; even modest and self-sacrificing.  On the other hand, he may be mean, egotistical, selfish and dishonest.  But, as with most humans, he is more likely to have varied traits.  What usually happens?  The show doesn't come off very well.

"When I'm finally made King of the World then everyone would be happy."

Me.

It was as if we were actors on a stage, suddenly realizing that we did not know a single line of our parts.

More than most people, the alcoholic leads a double life.  He is very much the actor.  To the outer world he presents his stage character.  This is the one he likes his fellows to see.

I think that Bill W secretly wanted to be an actor rather than a stock broker. Dude loved attention. Dude loved to be the center of attention. Dude loved to be control of everyone and everything. I think deep down I should have been a director. You - stand here. You - do this. You - get the fuck off my stage! I would have made a great director. It's not only that I know what's best for everyone but that everyone agrees that I know what's best for everyone else.

Of this I am certain.

For by this time sanity will have returned. 

Yeah, well, sanity may have returned but then it leaves again, sometimes for a long time.  And we're defining "sanity" loosely here.  What most people consider insane aren't things that I'm especially worried about.  SuperK points this out quite frequently when I protest.  As in, "normal people don't do that."

Connections

On our last long trip we spent most of our time in developing African and Southeast Asian countries around people who didn't have a lot of material things.  The infrastructure was deteriorated and the traffic and crowds of people occasionally suffocating.  SuperK and I talked mostly to the locals.  This, in my opinion, is the reason to go to another country.  To see how they do things and to get their point of view on life in the 21st Century.  Why would I want to talk to some retired oil    executive from Dallas who owns a summer home somewhere . . . or maybe two summer homes.           

We were curious as why so many people we talked to wanted our phone numbers.  Curious and suspicious.  Friendship, the cachet of having the contact info of a Big, Bad American, and the possibility of putting the touch on someone who could probably afford it down the road.  The ship personnel would have the additional motivation of scoring a tip of some kind at the end of the trip.  I didn't really care.  Some of the staff were genuinely nice because they were nice and I'm sure some were nice because it's their job to be nice.  If some young woman from a developing country is hoping for a tip after working for six months with no days off, averaging ten hours of work each and every day she should get a tip.  The small amount of money won't make a difference to me but goes a long way once she gets home.

Here's a sampling . . .

We had a guide on a rainforest hike in The Gambia that we talked to quite a bit.  We exchanged numbers and texted a few times, pleasantly enough.  He had a bit of a salesman/player vibe coming off of him so I wasn't surprised when he said that he had bought a car that would help him in his role as a guide and asked for $500 so he could buy an engine for it.  He dutifully sent a picture of his car - a car anyway - without an engine.  Personally, I would have thought the engine was the most important part of the car but I'm not much of a mechanical guy.  I pondered, politely declined, and he graciously accepted.  Have not heard from him since.

On the same excursion the tour operator provided a small coffee and tea stand at the start of the hike, manned by two extremely polite young men, who served up Nescafe and tea out of a thermos.  I sidled up and talked to one of the guys for a while, a gentle soul named Bax.  I thorougly enjoyed talking with this kid, a respectful Muslim struggling to get by.  We exchanged numbers and texted a few times with one of the main themes being that he now considered SuperK and I members of his "family," calling us Auntie and Uncle.  Part of this I could chalk up to the high regard Africans hold for elders in their orbit.  Part of me watched warily.  Phone calls started coming in which I parried with texts.  He insisted that he needed to talk about something but never left a message and wouldn't explain by text what he needed to talk about.  Finally, a long voice mail where he explained that the family was very poor and unable to afford tuition for his sister so that she could train to be a teacher.  He quoted a number: $275.  I found the online school and chatted with a representative who indicated a lower price for the course load she would be taking.  I had decided I could chip in and help the family, but one semester at a time and stipulating that I would pay the school directly, asking that he send along the application and bill for the first semester.  Couldn't do anything over the weekend.  Then, his sister didn't apply because she wasn't feeling well.  Then . . . well, that's where it stands now, on a Wednesday, five days later.  We shall see.  We shall see.  We shall see.

Now Thursday.  Radio Silence.

Friday.  Nothing further.

Tuesday: Status Quo

(I almost feel like sending Bax a note wondering if he would feel better about himself if he just told the truth and, ironically, more likely to receive money from me.  Nobody likes to feel they're being hustled.)

Two weeks later:  His sister has decided not to attend school but his other sister has just graduated from school and they need money to attend her graduation ceremonies.

At the end of a different rainforest hike we were funneled into a small area of outdoor shops where a kid who looked like Eddie Murphy herded us into his shop.  He was another gentle soul, more interested in talking to us than selling us anything, so naturally we bought a couple of things.  He quoted a price on one thing.  I added another thing and asked for a discount (I would have paid the quoted price but I was starting to feel like I was traveling from country to country insulting our hosts by not dickering at least a little bit) since I was buying two things.  He started to go over to his older cousin who was obviously the Major Domo of the shop.  That dude waved an OK without looking up from his phone.  As we were leaving he told me that his father died when he was young so he was appointing me as his American father.  O brother.  Off we went.  A minute or two later he scurried up with a small handmade friendship bracelet which he presented to SuperK, not asking for money (see what I mean about my dickering skills?).  Exchanged numbers with Ibrahim but haven't heard from him at this point.

In Sri Lanka we stopped in a jewelry shop because both of us love the experience of buying something that reminds us a little bit of the countries we've visited.

The ship, of course, full of youngsters from developing countries, was a fertile harvest for new friends.  They were clearly instructed not to ask for tips or money or contact information so as to not make any of the guests feel pressured or uncomfortable.  This cruise line has a policy of "no tipping required" although they do cleverly add a big tip onto your bill that goes into a pool for the whole crew.  They're happy to remove or reduce it but you have to ask.  I'm sure a goodly number of people just leave the tip on rather than go through the bother.  I leave some of the tip in place while giving money directly to the crew members who we interact with most frequently and I felt like kind of a dick doing so, like they were going "Yeah, yeah, sure you're giving money to specific crew members."  There were so many great people.  A young guy from Zimbabwe who - when I called myself an old guy at one point, apparently, although I cannot recollect this - began calling out "Young man!  Young man!" every time I saw him.  An Indonesian dude who was the pasta chef expressed outrage that I hugged the women and not him so the hugging began in earnest - I had to go around to the back of the station, hallowed and forbidden ground in my mind's eye, looking out at bewildered and bemused guests looking back in at me.  I felt like taking orders.  "You.  Beat it.  Fuck out of here, I don't feel like making you shit." that kind of exchange which I would have enjoyed immensely and would have cemented me as a legend in the crew quarters.  There was a Chilean woman behind the ice cream bar, a Filipino girl about the size of my big toe assisting at the sushi station, a woman from Kyrgyzstan who absolutely worshipped SuperK, abandoning her waitress station to chase us down and chat until she got the evil eye from one of the head waiters, a kind evil eye (he was Honduran, worked for the ship for 17 years - can you imagine? - leaving your wife and kids for six months at a time so that they'd have a better life on the wages you earned) along the lines of "C'mon, dear, you got work to do," the list goes on and on.  All I did, really, was express joy upon seeing them and taking a minute to find out a little, tiny, teeny bit about who they really were.  You could see these young people absolutely melt with pleasure that you were paying them any attention at all.  We talked to one woman who went out by herself and rented a tuk-tuk taxi by herself in Sri Lanka and got absolutely shafted by the driver, paying twice what she should have paid.  Later that day we gave he in cash what she was overcharged, letting her know we admired her adventurous spirit and hoped that this one experience with a cunning taxi driver (who was himself probably struggling to feed his family - I mean it wasn't Jeff Bezos, for chrissake, who didn't need the money) wasn't going to dampen her enthusiasm for new experiences.  On and on the list goes.  The joy and self-worth I feel from this simple acts of kindness . . . I don't know how else I could glean this pleasure from the world.