Special Jeff and Me

One of my most special of all of my special gifts is dishing out shit and abuse to those I love.  I'm not kidding here, either - I really do this.  The saving grace is that I clearly do it out of love and affection and a desire to make other people laugh and maybe even laugh at themselves and if they want to give it right back that makes the whole thing even better.  It makes me laugh at myself and God knows we all need to take ourselves less seriously.  I'm an idiot and you know I'm an idiot so let's all yuck it up a little bit about how big an idiot I am.  I'm with you, man, on the whole "Seaweed is an idiot" theme.

One of my special, special targets is a guy whose nickname is Special Jeff.  We're very different people in some aspects and we're so similar it's scary in others.  I pick on him very publicly in meetings, cross-talking my ass off, in front of everyone.  I often shoot the breeze with Jeff before and after the meetings - we both arrive early - so he understands that I have a great deal of respect for him as an A.A. member, as a person, as a human.  I got to see him undergo a tremendous transformation several years ago when he made a big change in his personal life and I get to hang out with this newer, much more relaxed guy today.  I live to see members change like that.

The point here - if you're still at all curious as to whether I'll ever get to a cogent point - is that I love the knowledge that we are people heading in the same direction but on different paths and sometimes wildly different paths.  This is the whole key to spiritual growth and spiritual growth is the whole key to a contented, grateful sobriety.  Since Special and I are both older and retired we have the luxury of getting up early and having an extended Quiet Time.  He lives not far from me and I occasionally receive an image of him on his Serenity Couch and me in my Serenity Chair, both of us trying to maintain a happy level of peace and contentment.  I'm not sure what his set-up is but it works for him.  I'm in a comfortable room with lots of windows where I can see the dawn break and experience the magic of the gradually changing light.  My chair is comfortable and I have a heating pad to soothe my aging back.  There's a pile of books near me - spiritual and meditation books - and, in fact, the whole room is filled with books, lined with books, books spilling into the other rooms, dimly perceived in the dim darkness  . . . which makes me happy because I love to read.  My spirituality oozes from these books.  And the walls of my room have a lot of knick knacks and tchotchkes from our travels.  I am curiously drawn to masks and heads so I have a ton of faces looking back at me stoically, probably judging me and finding my performance lacking, but they bring back memories from my journeys, traveling being another huge, huge joy in my life.  I have music going, too - not every day but often - meditative, ambient music from all over the globe and on the days when I prefer some sound to the quiet of the room I suck a lot of good energy from the tunes.

So I've gone over the years from this church God, this dress-up-and-pray-specific-prayers-god to a room of books and art and music.  I think my buddy has a dog that may or may not join him in his Quiet Time.  When our cat was alive that heat-seeking missile would often hop up on my lap and purr, sucking the tiny amount of extra heat that I generate out of my body.  Animals are a great representation of God, too.