Progress, Not Perfection

I've become close to a man in my morning meeting who came into The Rooms with a temper that leaned toward aggression and volatility.  When he got angry he tended to act on it physically.  Early in his sobriety a coworker pissed him off and he threatened the guy and was promptly fired.  Even though he didn't follow through with any violence his company had a No Tolerance rule for this kind of behavior.  Saying that you're going to deck someone but not actually decking them is indeed an improvement but only an incremental one.  Good for his company, I say.  Nobody should be afraid to go to work because of a threatening coworker.

Because this sequences of events has resonated so strongly with me I'm going to repeat some of the details . . . . There's another man at the meeting who has come a long way IMO but still has a long way to come IMO.  Recently, in a misguided attempt at humor he quipped: "Under every skirt there's a slip."  I cringed and I'm positive some of the women cringed, and some of the other men as well.  It wasn't in-your-face egregious but it should not have been said.  When I think I should say something I ask my Higher Power to let me know if it should be said, if it should be said by me, if it should be said by me right now.  I did not feel like the right opportunity presented itself for me to point out the Errors of His Ways so I adhered to one of my most treasured aphorisms: Silence is Golden. As in: Try Not To Talk Today.

Recently Inappropriate Guy was in the kitchen pre-meeting and Angry Guy overhead another apparently inappropriate comment, and he let the guy know he didn't appreciate his words.  While I was waiting for my tea to brew Angry Guy came back into the kitchen and he was seething.  I told him to slow down, take some deep, calming breaths, and not act on any impulses he was feeling.  He settled somewhat and went back in to the meeting.  Afterwards, he approached me and said he had already made an amends to Inappropriate Guy for his behavior.  I don't believe he was really all that sorry for his behavior but I was proud to see that he made the effort.  I think it was the right thing to do.  When I behave poorly today I try to actually be sorry for the poor behavior but sometimes all I can do is say I'm sorry.

Here's the very satisfying update: Inappropriate Guy took a minute at the end of a meeting that he serves as secretary to make an amends to the group in case he had offended anyone.  I thought that took a lot of gumption.  I wonder if the amends Angry Guy made to him served as a guiding light for this amends?  I wonder if this was a case where the best path was having someone confront him, face to face, mano a mano, nice and direct, and point out his crappy behavior? Most of the time I believe that setting an example works the best but sometimes we need to be told when we're acting the jerk.  Angry Guy's approach didn't present itself to me as something that would be helpful coming out of my pie hole.  I think what we have here is another case where the mixing and matching together of so many different personalities and opinions, in one room, all trying to head in the same direction, results in the right solution presenting itself.  I was/am proud of the progress of both of these guys and I told them just that.

Alas . . .  after the meeting I walked a bit with Inappropriate Guy at which point I got to hear him voice his suspicions about which particular woman member was driving the outrage at his comment; outrage that he seemed to think was somewhat overblown.  Sigh.  Progress not perfection.

Grateful!

Because I need to hear this myself, over and over, I will continue to drone on and on about my fascination with negativity - fueled by wiring, by upbringing, driven by circumstance - and how it colors my take on life.  While I can ruin a good day by catastrophizing I say with satisfaction that I'm rarely stumped and dumbfounded, I rarely say: "Man, I didn't see that coming."  I can feel an oppressiveness to life sometimes because I am imagining what can go wrong but I am nimble on my feet when something actually does go sideways, as it will from time to time.  Those of us who are fearful and anxious by nature don't often get eaten by saber tooth tigers.  The trade-off to not getting eaten is that we spend a lot of time unnecessarily worrying about getting eaten.  There has never been a monster under my bed who has gotten its claws into me.

To wit:  I have a morning Gratitude List to shift my ungrateful ass into a state of gratitude.  There are so many things to be grateful for and that I am grateful for but the constant remembering keeps them in the forefront.  Here's my morning list:

Grateful for my good health and SuperK's good health.  As we age this becomes more of an issue, more aches and pains and deterioration, but our good health is a prize.  We exercise our due diligence - we stay in shape, get enough sleep, manage our stress, cultivate an active social life, don't smoke or eat crap food or drink alcohol or take drugs - but, still, some of the health we enjoy is just being lucky in the gene pool.  There are people who are also doing all of the above but have a family history of cancer.  Or alcoholism, now that I think about it.

I'm grateful for SuperK, my friend and confidant and love.  It's a blessing to have someone in my life with similar interests.  It sure makes everything funnier.   I have been married for almost 37 years and sober for almost 38 and I note with a wry smile that there are a lot more alcoholics with long-term sobriety than with long-term marriages.  Because of our bond I don't suffer from loneliness or isolation.  I read somewhere that chronic isolation among the elderly can be as damaging as excess drinking.

I'm grateful for Those Who Came Before Me: my parents, my beloved sponsor Ken, family members of all types and sizes, all of them with defects and shortcomings, all of them doing their best with a child who was a nightmare in many respects.  I turned out well so they couldn't have done that bad of a job.  How about credit where credit is due?  How about giving them a break when they fell short?  No one gets a manual specific to the children they are asked to rear.  In many cultures daily communion with ancestors is huge - I took a walk along the levies separating rice paddies in a rural Vietnamese community where there were small shrines, many with candles burning and small gifts of food or flowers, erected to honor ancestors, places for the still-living to stop and pause for a moment and remember those who have already gone ahead.

I'm grateful for all of my friends.  I am so blessed with good people in my life.  Some of them I've known my entire adult life and some for a short time; some of them I see or talk to regularly and some I haven't seen in many years; some of the relationships burn hot and furiously for a while and then cool off while some have kept a steady heat; some of my dearest friends irritate the living shit out of me from time to time without severing that long, thin cord that connects us.  Grateful for all of them.  All of them.

(Ed. Note: Before I move on to the last three categories I note with great amusement - great amusement - that these were the three most important categories when I was running and gunning and now they're not.  Still deliciously self-indulgent but in their proper place.  And while none of these blessings are guaranteed it is safe to say that for most of us our material well-being improves in sobriety.  It take a lot of resources to buy alcohol and drugs, fix wrecked cars, fix wrecked bodies, pay lawyers and courts, and straggle along generally between lost jobs.)

I'm grateful for my house.  It's not a fancy house but it's all paid for and located in a quiet neighborhood where I cherish my neighbors, the occasional Boat Guy notwithstanding.

I'm grateful for my cars.  I'm a car guy and I have owned some damn nice cars and I'm driving a super damn nice car right now.  It's a lot better than the 20 year old Plymouth Belvedere station wagon that my grandpa gave me.  In its defence it did run great unless it was hot outside or cold or it had been raining or was about to rain or it hadn't been driven in the last 20 minutes.  When I start my car today I just sit there for a minute marveling that everything is working as it should.

I'm grateful for my funds.  While I was housed and fed at the end of my drinking I was one unexpected expense from being out on my ass.  Today I have extra money.  I'm not living on the edge financially.  I have extra money to blow on nice cars and a house and other treats and sundries.

Legwork Only. Stay Out of the Results Business.

The Second Agreement: "Don't take anything personally."  In other words nothing other people do is because of you.  It is because of themselves.

From my current morning meditation book: "Tonight we may feel we failed in some way today.  Even though we may have done our best, we may now believe we could have done more, done it better, or tried harder.  But there are things out of our control.  One of them is the outcome of any  circumstance.  Though we strive to do our best and to make everything better, we need to remember the outcomes are not in our control."

Another of the constant reminders that basic spiritual principles are eternal and unchanging.  What do we say in Alcoholics Anonymous again?  "Do the legwork and leave the results up to God."  I know what I want, what I think is best, but I don't know what is best in the long run.  Disasters turn into blessings and earthly pleasures can complicate things.  Sometimes, anyway.  Not always, but sometimes, so could I please stop putting labels on what is happening?

I like the image of roots growing from the bottoms of my feet when I'm meditating, roots that go deep into the earth, that fill every space in the entire earth, mingling with the roots growing from every other human and plant and animal on earth, all of us communicating with each other and helping each other.   I like the fact that plant life competes with other plant life but also lives in harmony and synchronicity with all the other plant life.  A tree will grow tall to get as much of the sunlight as it can, potentially starving other plants from that nourishment, but if a damaging insect arrives or a fungus, the tree can send out chemical signals to the other trees warning of the dangers.

I was in the lobby with an engineer from our corporate headquarters when our main competitor walked in.  Our contact was nonplussed until my colleague said: "We're competitors - not enemies."

I'm Better Than EVERYONE

"I once heard a speaker say, "I am trapped inside what I think you think about me.  Today I realize I have experienced what Bill W. calls our 'spiritual kindergarten.'"

I've written too much about this married guy I know who is pushing 50 but still fancies himself a player with 30 year old women.  I think he behaves well - technically, officially - but he's out there walking on thin ice, I say as a married guy who knows my wife wouldn't appreciate me hanging out with or sniffing around much younger women, much younger single women.  Today a group of people went out to coffee after the meeting and one of my A.A. daughters invited me to tag along, mostly because there's a brand new man that I've been talking to and who was also going to be coffee drinking.  I deferred, as I had previously made plans to take a walk with The Player Guy who - I need to stress - is a nice man who works hard at recovery and spends a lot of time sponsoring new guys.  In my much beloved smart ass way I said something along the lines of "I get to listen to him drone on and on and on about problems of prosperity" with a huge smirk on my face and a well-known propensity for dishing out good humored shit to my friends.  (Ed. Note: while I was joking he really does this when we take a post-meeting walk on the beach.  I'm fine with it.  I think he appreciates the ear of someone who is interested in his comings and goings and is willing to call him on any bad behavior.  His real sponsor is a sweet man who doesn't push back, I don't think.  Nothing wrong with that most of the time but all of us need to be called to account from time to time.)  The young woman said: "Yeah.   Been there.  One of his unlimited time shares was about how his $5,000 refrigerator broke."

Rich people.  Jaysus, as the Irish would say.  I drive a Porsche and the woman who dropped the one liner on Rich Guy only found out about it last week.  I've known her two years.   If I have Ferrari problems I don't have to call them "Ferrari Problems" - I can call them "car problems."  The word for this is Humble Brag.  "The air conditioning on my private jet wasn't working on the flight to the French Riviera."

I think Rich Guy would be somewhat taken aback at the comment of one of the women he thinks he's dazzling.

In the "Restraint of Tongue and Pen" department I offer this quote from The Grapevine: "I've heard that if I make space between the stimulus and my response, I'm making room for the universe, or God, or peace, or common sense or for anything better to get in between me and the stimulus.  And that room gives me a chance to think about how I might be able to bring something good to the situation, rather than think about what I need to get out of it."

Good advice for someone who just did a ton of writing trying to convince you I'm better that Rich Guy.  I'm not better than anyone.  

Recovery? Recovery!

I asked someone recently what recovery meant to him.  Beyond the obvious structural changes - no drugs and no alcohol - and the obvious structural benefits - no jails, more money, better relationships.  What are the benefits of being in recovery?  He stammered and stumbled along, to my great amusement, being a guy who loves to see other guys suffer, while making me think: "How would I respond to that question?  Beyond the obvious benefits enumerated above?

Well . . . .

I'm much calmer and slower in my thinking and actions.  I'm not so reactive and quick to scuffle.  I pause and consider and this helps me to act like a sane person, a reasonable adult.

I'm aware and I'm present.  I love the imagery of my essence floating up above my carnal being and watching what's going on instead of being right in the thick of everything going on.  Watching before acting. I used to be the guy getting on the haunted roller coaster in the deserted, haunted amusement park while a killer is on the loose.  Now I'm the Floating Guy who reaches down and gently tugs on the Stupid Guy's collar and says: "Hey, let's go get some pizza instead."  I can see the Big Picture more easily.  I'm more aware of what's going on, what's really going on.

I now possess genuine love and concern for other people.  I used to think I did while dedicating all my free time to expressing love and concern for myself.  Eventually, because of the spiritual lessons I gleaned during my time in Alcoholics Anonymous, I started to pretend like I loved and cared for other people while pretty much still indulging my obsession for my own well-being. Better, sure, but not that much better.  Today?  It comes naturally.  While I still think of myself a lot I think of other people more.

I'm more tolerant of everyone else.  People do not annoy me to any serious degree anymore.  I'm all like "whatever, dude."  I love everyone; I like most people well enough; and a few of you annoy the shit out of me.  That sounds fair.  That sounds pretty good.

I have a slower, lower motor.  Probably some of this is a blessing of the aging process but I'm not moving forward at great speed in a car with no brakes.  I still run hot but it's manageable hot.  I'm satisfied with what I've done . . . most of the time . . . some of the time . . . one time millions of years ago in a universe a million light years away.

I have a great deal of gratitude.  I've got it good.  I've got it good.

Heresy:  Any belief that strongly opposes established, official, or orthodox standards.

Apostasy:  An act of refusing to continue to follow. obey, or recognize a religious faith.

A heretic has beliefs.  An apostate has none.

Okay, Just Books, Then

Crime and Punishment.  War and Peace.  Right and Wrong.  Good and Evil.  Is a lie a bad act when it spares someone's feelings?  When it damages someone's reputation?  When it spares me, myself, and I some discomfort?

I have been under some internal mandate of unknown origin to continue to pare my life down.  Stuff.  Whew, stuff.  Stuff has so much promise in the acquiring and can be so disappointing in the possession.  I was digging through some drawers that contained several pounds of paper that I have been hauling around for years - fifty years in some cases - and never rereading.  Newspaper and magazine articles about the glory years of the Cincinnati Reds, scorecards from Spring training games when I was deep in my addictions and still getting away with it, a few books and pictures and cards.  Memorabilia.  I can say with certainty I have not looked at any of this stuff in 30 years and to say it has been 40 years wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility.  I didn't read all of it this time and I know I wouldn't take it back out anytime soon, so I boxed it all up and took the package to the Post Office to mail to a friend who still follows the team like I did in my teens, aware that there is a lower rate for sending books through the mail.  While the package didn't technically contain books it did contain paper with words written on them.  What is a book anyway?  If I took all of the newspaper clippings and put them into a binder would that be a book?  Maybe the Post Office should have a manuscript rate.  This is on them, not me.  If you buy a lamp you get a twenty page pamphlet tell you, for instance, not to plug the lamp into an electrical outlet and take a shower so it's not too much to ask the Post Office to put some thought into their Book Rate.  Spell it out!

I'm an individual who is a slave to logical behavior.  I hate things that don't make sense, that aren't logical.  I like numbers.  One plus one equals two and that's that. There are generally ways to do something that are better than all the other ways to do something and when this is the case - not always but pretty often - I push back when I'm asked to do something the way that isn't the best.  To wit: I set the package down on the counter and told the old guy working that it contained "books and papers."  This was not true and this means, technically, I lied.  It contained papers.  I took the concept of a "Book Rate" and modified it somewhat to fit my concept of what could be shipped under the guise of a "book."  I didn't want to pay the much higher rate you have to pay to ship other shit and I decided I could change the facts in my favor.  A little twisting and bending and jamming and forcing, heating those facts up until they melt a little and can be reconfigured to my liking.  The guy looked at the box and said: "If you take the papers out I can give you a much better rate."  I looked at the box and pondered a moment, fighting back a low-grade urge to explain how the United States Post Office could do things better.  He wanted me to cut the box open, take some stuff out, seal the box back up, mail it, take the papers home and repackage them and then return to the Post Office to mail the papers.  I took a beat and then said with a straight face: "OK, it's just books."  What the fuck, right?  All I was going to do was take the package to another Post Office and tell them "Books - just books" because I'm not stupid, right?  And what was the guy going to say: "Sir, you just said it's books and papers."  I didn't see it happening.  I played the odds.  I made the calculation he wasn't going to get into it with me.  He just wanted to make it to lunch time so he could eat his baloney and cheese sandwich in the break room, not argue semantics with stone-cold liar sociopath.

The guy processed the order.  He wasn't unpleasant but he wasn't chatty, either.  I told him one thing and then I told him another and he knew one of them wasn't true so he knew he was dealing with a liar.  Not a horrible, evil liar but I didn't come clean with him.  You know, I didn't care.  His organization was illogical and inefficient and being a slave to the truth was going to inconvenience me.  The cost was $8.50 instead of $30.50 so that helped my calculus, too.  I was effusive in my praise of his service that morning.  I felt/feel no guilt about what happened.  Get your shit together, Post Office.

I told this story to SuperK when I got home.  I didn't perceive it as being anything that special or out of the ordinary and pretty typical of something I might do or say and she lost it, collapsing with laughter.  It surprised me, actually.  Like "shit, maybe I am a psychopath."  

I told her that she just bought an entire year of bad behavior with her reaction.

God! Dog! Palindrome!

 There are four stages to life: youth, middle-age, old age, and "You look great!"                                     Unknown (but pretty goddam funny)

You do enough.  You have enough.  You ARE enough.

You are not alone.  You are loved unconditionally.  You are supported.  You are strong.  You are ENOUGH.

One meditation visualization that I hear often and just as often forget is to imagine that there are roots emanating from the bottoms of my feet and entering the ground and traveling through every bit of this earth and intermingling with the roots of every other person, connecting me with all of them.

I'll toss in this ChatGPT summary of animism, a topic I've investigated in the past and one that continues to fascinate me even though I'm not really sure how to incorporate it into my own personal, learned and installed root system:

Animism is the belief that spirits, souls, or a living essence exist not only in humans but also in animals, plants, natural features, and sometimes objects such as rivers, mountains, rocks, or even tools.

Key ideas of animism include:

• Nature is alive and spiritually significant.
• Humans are part of a larger community that includes animals, plants, and other beings.
• Relationships with these beings often involve respect and reciprocity.

Animism is found in many Indigenous and traditional cultures around the world, including among some Native American, African, Australian Aboriginal, and Asian peoples.  It is often considered one of the oldest forms of religious belief.

Every time we travel we pick up a few rocks from wherever we end up.  I'm assuming I'm not supposed to do this but as with many things I'm not supposed to do I do it anyway, partially because I have a great deal of respect for rocks - they're amazing things that have been around for a long time - and partially because it connects me to an old friend from high school who was also a rock guy.  And with SuperK's geologist brother who knew a lot more about rocks than I'll ever know and who passed this love on to his sister who passed it on to me, a gift I'm deeply grateful for.

Rocks!

I felt the presence of The Divine as deeply as I've ever experienced during our trip to Antarctica.  Man, that place got into my bones.  Man, that was a beautiful place.  God - or Dog - was oozing out of that place.

When we got back from our last trip the Mexican rescue dog who lives next door and who loves me with a love I cannot fathom glimpsed me for the first time since our return.  She lost it.  She looked like a demon possessed.  She was bouncing and thrashing around so much that she lost her balance and fell heavily on her side - it looked like it hurt to me - but she just hopped up and continued to thrash.  You tell me there's nothing divine in that?  You tell me that isn't the essence of love distilled?

God!  Dog!  You notice anything similar there!?!

Actions V Intentions For the Fiftieth Time

People are watching what we do.  They judge us by what we do.  I was under the illusion that people judged me by what I said I was going to do.  Even worse, I hoped that they judged me by what I was thinking I was going to say that I was going to do.  I was a hell of a guy in my own mind and it was just too bad that you didn't live up in there, too.  What we say and do matters, even if we don't realize it.  It's not the intention that matters - that's just a starting point.  But, hey, even failure is part of recovery.  Failure doesn't define us - it's what we do afterwards that defines who we are.

The Toltecs have their own take on this: "Many of us have spent years creating stories about ourselves based on other people's ideas and expectations, then we struggle through life trying to live up to these false images that we agreed to.  But there comes a point when you say to yourself: "This is who I am - no story needed."

I've added a guided meditation to my morning Quiet Time routine.  Some of them are good, a few are great, and some of them rub me the wrong way.  The quiet, breathy, murmuring voices, using words like gently and nourishing.  Yeech.  "Mindfully take a gentle, nourishing breath of clean, energizing air."  Brother, give me a break.

And how about chakras?  I try to keep an open mind on matters of spirituality but the chakras are more than I can handle.

1. Root Chakra  — Base of the spine
   • Associated with survival, stability, grounding.
2. Sacral Chakra  — Lower abdomen
   • Associated with creativity, pleasure, emotions.
3. Solar Plexus Chakra — Upper abdomen
   • Associated with confidence, willpower, personal power.
4. Heart Chakra — Center of the chest
   • Associated with love, compassion, connection.
5. Throat Chakra  — Throat
   • Associated with communication and self-expression.
6. Third Eye Chakra  — Between the eyebrows
   • Associated with intuition and insight.
7. Crown Chakra  — Top of the head
   • Associated with spirituality and higher consciousness.

From a spiritual perspective, practices such as meditation, yoga, breathwork, chanting, and visualization are often used to balance or awaken the chakras.

From a scientific perspective, chakras are not recognized as physical structures or measurable energy centers in the body. They are generally understood as spiritual, symbolic, or psychological concepts rather than anatomical ones.  In traditional Tantra, chakras were primarily tools for spiritual transformation and meditation, not simply centers associated with personality traits or emotional wellness. 

One thing I find fascinating is that the concept of chakras is found in many original texts but they've changed and modified over the centuries - at their essence the same but morphing into many different forms.  A relatively modern invention is assigning colors to each chakra center.  In my background the Bible is the Big Kahuna; a book that is essentially the same but has changed and been modified over the centuries as well.  So wherever your spiritual traditions or practices lead you let them lead away - you can find spiritual mentors or advisors that help immensely but at the heart of the matter they're human beings, too, with all kinds of prejudices and shortcomings.  Beware the teacher who is cocksure that they're all that and never wrong.  These people, in my estimation, can be the biggest fuck-ups out there.

Here's a visualization technique I like: A blue sky with clouds drifting across it.  The sky is my mind - always there, never changing - and the clouds are my thoughts - coming and going, changing constantly while not affecting the essence of the sky itself.  Within the sky but not the sky.

Let's Try the Red One

"Remember - you are not a helpless bystander to the tyranny of your mind."

Toltecs

 

Reflecting on my day I'm now much more conscious of how much time I spent talking about myself or focusing attention on myself or my issues.  SuperK went out to lunch with some friends from her golf league and got stuck to a woman who asked her not one question (just back from Denmark!) while prattling on and on in great detail about herself.  Borrrrringggg!  I'm not sure what I would have done but then I'm not as nice as my wife is - she actually cares what other people think about her.  But I know that I'm not so important that I need to keep a constant watch over myself.  I can stop watching myself and start noticing others.  I can continue to discover the world around me.

"One must do more, think less, and not watch oneself live."

Sebastien de Chamfort

"Sometimes we have habits or practices that cause us pain, yet we continue to do them.  This is because that same action also brings us comfort in some way.  Being honest with ourselves in this regard is key to knowing whether or not we really want to change them."

Toltecs, again

This is an alcoholic, pondering the ruination of his life, fully aware that he simply cannot drink and survive, pouring the next drink.  He has learned what the problem is; he is aware that there is a solution; but he doesn't change his behavior.

"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 time differentiate the true from the false.  To them, the alcoholic life seems the only normal one."

Doctor's Opinion, The Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous.

Homer Simpson, in an effort to get free cable, climbs up a utility pole where he finds a red connection and a green connection.  He attaches the cable wire to the green connection - makes sense - and is promptly shocked into next Wednesday.  "Hmmmm," he muses.  "Must be the red connection."  For a second time he gets the shit shocked out of himself.  Frazzled, he pauses, smoke rising from his singed hair, and states, with some purpose and confidence: "Let's try the green one."  and is promptly knocked right off the pole.

This is an alcoholic pondering the next right move as he looks back on an endless stream of bad choices, before deciding to try the alcohol solution . . . one . . .  morrrrre . . . tiiiiime . . . 

The Tony Morgan

"Ask yourself the most important question: 'Who am I?' "  Who you are is who you are at the center.  The answer is beyond all knowledge and cannot be expressed in words.  Meditate on this today."

Things go better for me when I'm honestly looking at myself.  Sometimes I have trouble with the "honestly" part.  Sometimes I need voices from outside my own head to chime in.  Others can see my self-righteous dishonesty without prejudice.  Who likes to admit to being a jerk?  And sometimes I'm fully aware of my defects and just don't give a shit.

An example: when I was finally getting on my feet financially - I'd like to say "back on my feet" but I had never been anywhere near on my feet - I was pleased to be able to buy some clothes that didn't make me look like a schizophrenic drug addict listening to eerie, ominous voices audible only inside his own head.  Not Saks Fifth Avenue clothes - Eddie Bauer clothes, Lands End clothes.  Not fancy stuff, just adult-ish stuff, reasonable looking, no tears or rips or stains.  Anyway I bought this lightweight vest.  I still have it.  The quality is excellent, it's water-resistant and lightweight which makes it great for traveling, it has a little bit of style.  Not long after I bought the jacket I wore it to a meeting.  Across the room what did I see but a friend wearing the exact same vest.  Here's the thing: he was not an especially fit friend and he looked kind of like an over-stuffed sausage in the vest.  He did not flatter the vest, the very same vest I was wearing, and  I'm not saying I was rocking the vest but I looked better in it than he did.  For a moment I felt like going outside and stuffing my vest into a garbage can.  He had ruined the spoils of war that I had finally begun accumulating.

As I said I still have the vest.  I don't begrudge Stuffed Sausage Guy his vest, either, and I hope he still has it.  As I continue to judge my spiritual progress or lack of I'll share the fact that the vest has long had a name - The Johnny Morgan - and it is always and only called The Tony Morgan as in: "Hey, SuperK, have you seen The Tony Morgan?"  "Yes, The Tony Morgan is in the wash."  That kind of fairly gossipy humor.

Still makes me laugh, though.

I'm trying to get better.  I'm better than I was.

"Life has every right to say no to our endeavors.  We are judging and rejecting ourselves before life has had a chance to express a choice.  This self-rejection stops us from living the life of our dreams and keeps us trapped in disillusionment.  When life says no to us, as it inevitably will sometimes, we respect that choice also, without self-judgment." 

Angry Guy V Inappropriate Guy

I have a friend in A.A. who has a temper.  It's a guy, naturally, and I'm talking about quite the temper.  Take a swing at you, scream obscenities kind of temper.  Scary temper.  I've watched him make great progress in his recovery, so much so that he now works as an intake counselor at a drug rehab center.  Early in his journey he threatened a coworker at his place of employment and was promptly fired - even though he didn't carry through on his threat his company had a policy of no violence, actual or implied.  Kind of unbelievable that companies have to actually make a policy like that.  It doesn't speak very well of the society we live in.  Anyway, he paid the price, learned from it, and has continued to grow.  For a while - quite a while - I'd usually ask him how he was doing with his anger management.  He reported in but I didn't think he especially appreciated the nudges.  It's almost as if I was saying: "How's it going, you fuck-up?"  But we're close enough that I felt comfortable poking at his sore spots, at his deficiencies and defects, and he was savvy enough to listen.

At the meeting yesterday he came into the kitchen area as the meeting was getting underway where I was waiting for the kettle to boil and provide me with hot water for my tea - cursed secretary made coffee but didn't take care of the tea drinkers, curse her, although does any red-blooded A.A. member really trust anyone who chooses tea over coffee? - and he was boiling mad.  He overheard one of our other members make a couple of jokes that he thought were disrespectful to women.  This guy has also made a ton of progress in his recovery but his jokes are sometimes funny and sometimes they make me wince a little.  Not terribly inappropriate but not what you'd like to see in someone growing spiritually.  Early on this guy talked a lot about money and women, clearly reliving what he thought were past successes in the money and and sex department to someone who could not have cared less.  Anyway Temper Guy got in Inappropriate Guy's face about the comments.  My job, I thought, was just to get Temper Guy to calm down.  Which I did, so hooray for me!  Temper Guy then said: OK.  I need to make amends" which pretty much floored me.

I like to see this kind of progression, this kind of growth.  While I was happy he didn't take a swing at Inappropriate Guy he coulda kept his mouth shut.  Progress is incremental and it can be painfully slow.  Next time maybe he'll throw down a slew of curses mentally while keeping quiet.  The goal, of course, is not to react with anger at all.  Lofty goal, indeed.  The funny thing is that Inappropriate Guy took the amends well and 'fessed up to some maybe, kinda, not-so-great behavior on his part.  So what do I know?  While I do believe that kindness and positive reinforcement work best most of the time sometimes we need to have someone point out clearly bad behavior.  Maybe my gentle tolerance for the off-color stories was interpreted as tacit agreement or acceptance of the behavior.  Maybe some direct commentary, honest, face-to-face, was necessary.

At Costco yesterday I was waiting - with my turn signal on - for traffic to clear so I could enter one of the lanes running between the parking spaces when the guy behind me sounded his horn.  First of all, never go to Costco on Friday, which is apparently their busy day.  Actually, that's it - there's no second of all.  There is a point, however, which I may or may not get to eventually.  Here's the action: SuperK said: "Did that guy just beep at you?" and then we both burst out laughing.  Old Seaweed has grown, too, from someone who would have stood on his horn while flashing the bird to someone who would have left his horn dormant while cursing mightily to someone who laughed merrily.  This was not easily attained behavior.  This took time.

My Little Man's an Idiot

"Facts are stubborn things."

John Adams

"Ain't we got all the fools in town on our side?  And ain't that a big enough majority in any town?
Huck Finn

I got a text yesterday from a friend in The Program - a friend who is not effusive in their emotions - asking about the wisdom of sponsoring a person of the opposite sex.  The conventional wisdom is that this is not a great idea.  We can have good intentions and still allow attention from - in some world, in some life - someone who might be a possible mate to sway us and color our emotions.  I work like Hercules trying to stay neutral when I'm dealing with another person and I try to stay neutral even though I have a strong opinion and even though I'm a genius who is always right and should be appointed The Supreme Leader of the Universe and of All Its Many Life Forms.  That would be a tough thing to fit on my name tag but I still like it.  My M.O. is to ask questions, to refer back to a passage or story in The Big Book that might apply, to encourage the uncertain questioner to get feedback from lot of other alcoholics and to sit quietly, listen to that small, still voice.  My desire to run The Show, to tell other people how to behave, to imply that I have All The Answers can overwhelm my Intentions.

There's a Seinfeld episode where George is struggling with a decision and Kramer tells him to listen to the Little Man inside - what is the Little Man saying?  George: "My Little Man doesn't know.  (Comedic pause.)  Ahhhh, my Little Man's an idiot!"

Yes.  My Little Man can be an idiot, too.

Then, because my Morning Meditation currently includes a story out of the latest Grapevine, I read this: "I don't actually know what's best for anyone else.  That's my ego.  It says what's right for me is right for all.  How freeing this knowledge is, this wisdom.  I, an alcoholic, have had a spiritual awakening as the result of working A.A.'s Twelve Steps, one which gives me a very good sober life.  That doesn't mean I need to tell anyone else what they should do.  How scary, too, to my ego at least. It means simply being available for a fellow alcoholic, rather than being in command or control.  It means a lot of letting go."

All Over the Place This Morning :)

 "Remember - you are not a helpless bystander to the tyranny of your mind.  By becoming aware of your thoughts you can help set the tone for your day and night. "                                                             The Toltecs

You have given your mind free reign to do whatever it wants for so long that it won't give this control up easily.  Minds are made to think so when we try to redirect them onto a calmer, more peaceful track they're not happy about it.  They resist.  They push back.  They shove back.

We give people what they need and not what they want, not what we want them to need.

How about today we say nice things to everyone we run into?  Come up with something nice, something complimentary, something to let that person know that you see them and appreciate them.  I'll tell you it's a lot easier than being a prick.

"We ought to hear at least one little song every day, read a good poem, see a first-rate painting, and if possible speak a few sensible words."                                                                                                  Von Goethe     

Some people need a lot of attention and some people don't.  How about today we let the independent folks do their thing, chalking up any silence or distance as their modus operandi, while lavishing some extra time on those who process the events of their lives by sharing with others?  I'll tell you that it's harder to deal with those who are on the opposite end of the spectrum.

"Humility is not thinking less of yourself - it's thinking of yourself less."                                                 C.S. Lewis

"Humility is the quality of having a modest, accurate view of one's own importance, accompanied by a lack of pride and an openness to others."

"When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom."                                         Proverbs 11:2

Meet Them at the Door, Laughing

 This being human is a guest house.

Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in. 

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

This is a poem by the Sufi mystic poet Rumi that I heard for the first time while doing a guided meditation.  Mostly I sit quietly when I meditate but sometimes I listen to a teacher.  Sometimes I'm too energized and distracted to sit quietly and I need some guidance.

What a great poem!  Once again I learn that it's all okay, it's all part of the journey, I can learn something from everything.  When I try to control the outcomes and the circumstances - always pleasant and always in my favor, of course (More money! More sex!! More power!!!) - my day turns to shit, it becomes an exercise of wrestling with Existential Dread, afraid I'm not going to get what I want or that I'm going to lose whatever I already have.  I cannot stress enough the misery that this flavor of life approach brings to me.  I cannot believe that I once thought I had that kind of power over my life.  I'm the guy being tossed out of my canoe and into the rapids of a raging, rock-filled river, all the while saying: "OK, I'm going to manage this.  I'm not going to swallow any water and I'm going to avoid all the rocks," all of this happening as I'm smashing into the rocks and swallowing river water.  But when I open my arms and welcome life's occasional bullshit into my life I'm much more relaxed and serene.  OK, I never open up my arms but at least I'm not slamming the door shut on my troubles.  I say it often and I'll say it again - I'm more content when I look at things as pleasant and painful and not as good or bad.  Who knows what lessons I'm going to learn from my annoying guests?  

Come on in, teachers.

And a special thanks this morning to Spandex who shared his oh-so-temporary troubles with me last night and graciously listened to me say, with great wisdom and perspective: "Fuck if I know what you should do.  Good luck with all that."  I guess my wisdom is that if I simply listen with attention then the talker will eventually figure out what to do all on their own by listening to their own words, in their own voice.  How many times have I been sharing something only to think: "I should shut up - I sound crazy."

"To maintain your opinion, do you need to ignore or defy other people's opinions or disregard new information that's come to light?  With awareness, say to yourself: 'As a Toltec hunter, I will notice when I start to struggle, so I may see the illusion I am trying to hold on to.  Once recognized, I vow to let it go with ease and grace.' "

Maybe I'm Just Annoying?

"I am responsible for what I say, but I am not responsible for what you hear."

Toltecs

Have you  ever heard of the concept of The Smoky Mirror?  It refers to the filters that we all have when we're viewing reality.  Whatever we see is distorted by our own beliefs and ideas, or our preconditioned point of view.  This helps me to see my prejudices and it also helps in my relationships with other people.  Am I dealing with the person I see or am I working through a thick haze of smoke, trying to penetrate their belief systems to see what's really going on?  Is it me or is it a show? 

Showtime!

I've come to believe that different people need different things from me.  Or from other people.  I used to have a One Size Fits All approach to life - this is what I like to give and this is what I like to receive and you damn well better fit into this approach.  Remember the square peg in the round hole?  Remember the big hammer?  Remember the sledgehammer?  I have a young guy who texts me almost every day and he almost always says "I love you!" and sometimes this is all he says.  I have other friends who respond to half of my texts.  I don't reply to every text the guy sends me - it's not my preferred form of communication and it's enough with the "I love you!" crap already.  So when my other buddies don't respond to my texts each and every time I don't get my feelings hurt and I'm not upset that I'm always the one who starts the texting chain . . . but, come to think of it, maybe I'm just annoying and that's why they don't respond hmmmm?  Whatever, dude, going to keep doing it.  With my A.A. daughter I believe that when I check in that it's a reminder that someone is thinking about her which is not something she could rely on from her homeless, drug addict real dad before she came into Alcoholics Anonymous.  I don't have to be specific with my emotions or my intentions - it's letting her know someone is paying attention, someone has her best interests in mind.

And I know that those of us who are very self-sufficient can get bent over backwards when - as is going to happen from time to time - a whole swath of tough, painful things, stuff that we could easily handle one at a time, hit us all at once.  This is why it's important to keep those lines of communication open - we don't know when communicating is going to be critical.

What a Jerk

When I was in my early 20s, still stinging from my great failure and ignominious ejection from Optometry College I talked my two best friends in the world - brothers - into making a drug and alcohol-fueled road trip from Ohio across the country to California and back.  I need to stipulate that it was me who was being fueled by drugs and alcohol.  I was digging through some old pictures to share with these guys - still my two best friends in the world - and I can confirm that in every instance I was clearly drunk and/or stoned.  There was often alcohol in the picture.  I listened to a man talk recently about trying to hide his cocaine habit from his loved ones.  He thought he was successful in his subterfuge.  Pshaw.  I was fooling precisely no one and neither was he.

One set of photos detailed a hiking/camping trip that we took on a coastal trail north of San Francisco.  I have no doubt that this was my idea because it was rash and poorly conceived.  We are clearly not prepared for camping in this environment.  After many miles we reached the beautiful campsite right on the Pacific Ocean.  Our plan was to put a tarp on the ground and climb into our sleeping bags after heating up some water on a grill for our freeze-dried meals.  The wind was blowing a gale.  There were bear poles at each site so your food could be stored out of any ursine reach. We were getting vaguely worried, out of our element, all the other sites were equipped with harsh weather tents and were up and thriving.   We struggled to get the coals lit and then to heat the water which -  after a while - turned a gorgeous smoky brown, clearly unfit for human consumption.  We peered at the water for a while, our brains struggling to accept the scope of the unfolding tragedy, until one of the brothers said: "So . . . we outta here?"  One of the greatest lines ever uttered in my presence.  We did manage to make it back to our car, night falling quickly as we hustled to gain shelter before it became pitch black . . . in bear country . . . taking a much shorter route but one that climbed and descended a series of ridges on the return trip.

I don't think I carried in alcohol but I was packing drugs.  The older brother really lit into me when we made it back to the car and deservedly so.  This was typical of my life then and can still be today - impulsive, controlling, oblivious, driving myself and everyone around me relentlessly forward with scant thought of the consequences or the wishes of anyone else.  I wanted to blast down the road like a bat out of hell to a new place each night and to run myself ragged doing so, unconcerned about the welfare of anyone else.  It's not like I didn't care about them - it's that I wanted to do what I wanted to do and it was my job to convince you to follow my lead, often stupid and ill-conceived.  Self!  Most of my memories reveal trying to get what I wanted and to force you into line behind me.  Once again: good intentions, crappy actions.  I sincerely wanted you to be happy, too, but I wanted you to be happy following my lead.

So much of my pre-A.A. life reveals a boy/man who wanted his own way.  I was the actor trying to control the set, the dialogue, the actions of all my fellow actors.   Everything would be great if you did what I wanted!

There was another instance on this trip where I fell asleep in the car as we drove through the night from Las Vegas to Los Angeles, too drunk and high to take my turn at the wheel as we had decided to brave the desert drive at night when the temperature was lower in our car with no air conditioning.  When we arrived at a campsite the next morning I pitched a bitch because it was a dusty, crowded place still on the fringes of the desert.  My buddy took my head off that morning, too.  Man, was I a jerk.  You drive all night by yourself AND find a campsite by yourself that meets my specifications  Man, what selfish prick I was.

"Whenever you classify something as 'good' or 'bad' you stop looking at it with an open mind."

Toltecs.

A God or The God?

One of my favorite movies is "Groundhog Day" starring Bill Murray.  Oddly enough given the cast of comedic actors the message is very spiritual.  The premise is that Murray's character is a self-absorbed prick who is in Puxatawny to report on Groundhog Day and he gets stuck in a time loop where every day starts out with him reliving Groundhog Day.  Nothing he does seems to change this so he starts to engage in self-absorbed activities: drug use, crime, manipulative sex and is dismayed to find out that each day gets more and more frustrating and banal.  He starts committing suicide to no lasting effect - he wakes up again on Groundhog Day.  He finally confesses to a coworker that he might be God.  She's skeptical.  He says: "I didn't say I was the God - maybe I'm just a God."  He doesn't think he's omnipotent just that he's been around for a long, long time.

Don't we all feel that way from time to time?  That we're God?  I do.  In fact, I feel that way almost all of the time.  I think any wisdom I may have accumulated isn't because I'm wise but rather that I've done stupid things so many times, over and over again, that I finally figure out that I shouldn't do these stupid things.  Does that sound like wisdom?  Or does it sound like the reaction a chipmunk would have if you shocked it every time it touched its food dish?  You wouldn't call the chipmunk wise - you'd say it got tired of getting shocked   Maybe I'm not even a God.  Maybe I'm a chipmunk.

So the character begins to behave generously.  He takes thousands of Groundhog Days to learn how to play the  piano and he helps a homeless guy and he buys tons of insurance from an annoying agent.  Things turn out well.  Eventually, he wakes up and it's Groundhog Day plus one and he's escaped the loop and re-entered linear time and all is well, all is well, all is well.

I'm not sure at the moment whether the point is to encourage all of us to good behavior or to convince everyone that I'm a God.

This and That

I pinged my A.A. daughter a few days ago just to check in.  A while back I told her that she was a terrible Millennial because she never texted me.  "Eh," she quipped.  "I just wait for you to text me."  THIS is why I love this girl.  Anyway, the text landed at the right time because she had gotten an update on her real father - homeless, with no real desire to change - that she found upsetting.  Smart woman that she is she did the right things and worked through it.  I think my text helped but the work is hers to do or not to do.  I reflect and share my belief that your mother and father are your mother and father - good behavior or bad behavior, close relationship or not, intimate connection or distant - and it's not possible to be non-reactive in a manner that's healthy emotionally.  They're your parents.  I know when my mom died my grief was pretty muted even though I was a mama's boy - I was on good terms with her and I didn't have anything left unsaid or any behavior I needed to have corrected.  My alcoholic, emotionally distant, impatient and volatile father, however, passed and I suffered when it happened.  Part of me wondered if I couldn't have applied the tools I learned in my recovery life to have been more understanding.  Who knows?  The point is that we're connected with our birth parents and that's that, nothin' you can do about it.

There's a boy at the meeting who is about the right age to be my son. He is the nicest, kindest man you could ever hope to meet.  He takes everything to heart, makes everything his fault, and feels it deeply, deeply, deeply.  I try to tell him every time I see him what a special person I think he is.  I think he needs this feedback.  He stands there and looks at me like I've tased him.  Such an easy kindness on my part!  Such an easy gift to give and a heartfelt one at that!

I got a text before the meeting yesterday from the guy I know who expresses a little too much interest and lavishes a little too much attention on the younger women in The Program.  His actual behavior has been okay but I've never approved of it.  I don't think that kind of attention to women is helpful in the long run - at the very least it keeps them from interacting with . .  . you know . . . other women - and I can't imagine that there is a subtext that stresses out his relationship with his wife, despite his insistence that he loves her deeply and is deeply committed to her.  SuperK is completely understanding when I share something about my A.A. daughter but she also finds it irritating from time to time.  Completely understandable.  It makes me peer at my behavior very closely.  Sometimes it's not the behavior but the fact that it is attention I've giving to someone else and not to her.  Yesterday we picked up a floor mat at the car dealer, had lunch, and did a little outlet mall shopping.  It was fun and it was with my wife.  It didn't have to be a huge extravaganza - it just needed to be something between the two of us.

Just Another Big-Ass House

I used to deal with the world in a transactional fashion - if I gave I wanted to get.  I became annoyed and enraged if I did something for someone and it wasn't reciprocated in a manner that pleased me.  And I expected that others would think about me before I thought about them.  That was the hallmark of a "winner."  Getting without giving, Hoo Boy, that was some sweet shit.  Today?  Not so much.  I work diligently at giving with the critical caveat that I should have no expectation of return.  I tell people that you can make me happier but it's hard to make me sadder.  I send out a text.  If you reply I feel good - if you don't .  . . maybe you're busy, maybe you forgot, maybe I'm no big deal in your world.  All good.  I've learned - most of the time - to give generously.

So then there's my sister . . .  I do not today and have never had a close relationship with my sister, my only living blood relative.  My sister is a perfectly fine human being.  My sister values status and appearance and she often has a blunt, somewhat insensitive manner.  She is much more attached to these things than I am and her irritation when I've succeeded in these areas is pretty obvious.  In my opinion it's as important to her to have more than you as it is to have something.  To compound her bedevilments, she married a brilliant man and kept working while he went back to school (s) so that he could get advanced degrees, and then watched in frustration as he puttered around and never made much of a success of himself in the business world.  Business requires a healthy amount of competitiveness.  In The States we don't have capitalism - we have Brute Capitalism.  It's the lions versus the gladiators.  He didn't have that kind of fight.  In the academic world you studied hard and rose in the class rankings.  In business, you tried to kill your opponent and take his women and castles, metaphorically speaking.

Anyway, one day he came home and said he'd quit his corporate attorney job and never really had any financial success after that, so my sister had to go back to work so they could afford health insurance, which indicated to me some strains in their finances.  All of this is none of my business and I've kept my nose way, way out of it.  We've never been in touch on a regular basis and this has only become more pronounced as we get older.  I don't think she really likes me.  I'm sure she loves me but I think I irritate her with my lifestyle.  I'm quite happy to report I don't really care - I try not to wave anything in her face but if I irritate her that's on her.

Anyway, they finally retired, sold their Big Ass house, and moved to a warmer climate.  I assume that a lot of the money to do this came from the gains accrued from the appreciation in their Big Ass house.  Good for them.  Downsize, simplify, detach somewhat from the need to keep up with the Joneses.  Because her birthday is coming up I asked for their new address and - curious - took a look at the house they bought.  Holy Mother of God, it's a huge four bedroom house with a big sun porch and a hot tub and a pool on a good-sized lot.  Their children are long gone and they don't know anyone in their new state.  I mean - WTF? Right?  I confess to a little penis envy right out of the chute - I want a Big Ass house, too, yeah? - but then I started doing the calculus.  How do you furnish a place that big?  Who's cleaning it?  Who's cutting the grass and maintaining the landscaping?  How much does it cost to heat and cool that place?

Mostly, I'm pleased to be free from all of that grasping and accumulating.  That is one of the miracles of my recovery - to enjoy what I have without needing more and without trying to top anyone else.

The last time I visited home I didn't tell my sister.  I wonder under what circumstances I'll see her again?

Stealing From Monks

I told SuperK this morning that one of her greatest gifts to me was letting me be who I am.  I can't imagine this is always easy.  I'm not a person who behaves in a conventional manner.  This must be irritating to a much more normal, conventional person.  I believe that a relationship goes through a few phases.  First, when you're falling in love you can overlook aspects of the other person you don't care for because you're in the thrall.  Then, after a while, shit starts to irritate you so the natural inclination is to try to change the other person, to mold them into the person you'd like them to be.  I don't think this is necessarily a bad thing - SuperK showed me that there were times to be unconventional but that sometimes that could hurt my chances when I was in a more conventional situation.  But then comes the critical point: letting the other person be their own authentic self.  This requires tremendous personal, spiritual growth.  SuperK talks about coming to the realization that I was just being me and that it didn't reflect on who she was.

We were in Japan several years ago in a city that has a lot of famous shrines and monasteries.  I asked a local guide about one of the most famous sites.  He said: "If you want to go there I'd suggest getting a guidebook - these are written by people who have done a lot of research and know more about that shrine than I'll ever know.  However, if you want to get a little off the beaten track . . .  " and then he suggested a few less well-known temples.  Wow, I'll forever be grateful that he did that.  We took a taxi to this big complex and walked inside, free to explore on our own.  We kind of stumbled around for a minute until one of the staff who spoke a little English noticed that we were lost and offered to ferry us around.  She was so great - she'd explain the importance of a room or exhibit and then she'd stand there quietly while we absorbed it all.  If we took a minute, she waited for a minute.  If we needed five minutes, she waited for five minutes.  She did not talk after her initial explanation unless we had a question.  At the end of the complex she bowed politely and dissolved into the background.  There was an older monk sitting at a table with some literature laid out in the final room - this guy looked like he was a monk right out of central casting: orange robe, shaved head, big, thick glasses, beatific smile on his face.  We chatted with him for a minute and then he said: "I think, right now, you are the happiest couple in the world."  Well, yeah, we bought a book after that comment.  He took a minute to inscribe something inscrutable on the inside cover and then we were off.

In The States I'd have chalked that up to some sales bullshit from someone trying to sell me something but in this environment I believe that man saw something in how we carried ourselves and spoke a truth.  Sometimes it's hard to hear a compliment.  I'm a suspicious, paranoid guy by nature, often suspecting some kind of jive or angle.  But, you know, I do believe that if you work The Steps and live a spiritual life then you start to give off an aura.  People feel your peace, they sense it, and it makes them feel calm and good.  I believe this monk has so trained his mind that he has a great intuitive feel for peace and calm and good intentions.

Oh, yeah, I shoplifted some shit from the monastery.  That monk was a sucker.  I know an easy mark when I see one.

Man, Is the Boat Guy in my Head

When I don't know what to do I don't do anything.  I cannot TELL you how difficult a skill this has been for me to learn.  I'm a charge-into-the-future kind of guy.  I like to make shit HAPPEN and the fact that sometimes I don't know what to do rarely impedes me.

I like the analogy of a canoe on a river.  I would take my canoe and put it in the water and start to paddle furiously upstream because that's where I wanted to go.  It just never occurred to me to turn the canoe around and go downstream and see what was around the bend.  In other words if I have a round peg and there's a square hole I go get a huge hammer and pound on that goddamn stupid peg until it's in the fucking hole.  THAT'S problem solving.  There's nothing that can't be fixed with a bigger hammer.  That's why we have sledgehammers.

"When we ask for guidance, instead of direct results, the right path always seems to unveil itself."

The Grapevine

"We may believe that by thinking of the problem, we are working on a resolution.  But we are really only dwelling on the futility of the problem.  It's only when we are released from worry that we can see solutions clearly.  How can I free myself from worry's constraints?"  Unknown writer.

"Physical fear is a natural reaction to a clear and present danger.  Irrational fear triggers that same physical reaction, but there is no actual physical danger present.  The main causes of irrational fear come from making assumptions or projecting about some future event."  The Toltecs

Funny how when I do the legwork that suggestions and possible solutions to problems pop up.  The above passages seemed appropriate to me as I make the Boat Guy a bigger problem than he really is.  How important is it in the big picture?  This is not that important but I naturally tend to worry that it's going to get worse or it's never going to end and that any possible solution is going to end up in an angry confrontation.  

"Projecting some future event," indeed.

When I keep my mind open - vis-a-vis the Boat Guy, for instance, these little reminders pop up and help out.

Neighbors Are the WORST

When we retired we moved into a community where the residents have to be over fifty-five.  You can, apparently, go out and get a trophy wife if you want to after you've moved in but even then she has to be forty.  No twenty-five year old trophy wives.  We like it here.  We weren't sure we were going to but it ends up being a nice place to live if a little dowdy and doddering at times.  It's quiet; we know our neighbors; everyone takes care of their little properties.  No kids, no large dogs, no semis parked on the street.  A while back the park management decided it would be acceptable for an adult child to move in with a parent as long as the child is serving as a "caretaker" if by "caretaker" you mean a "shiftless ne'er-do-well who's still comfortable living with their mother."  I'm being unkind here for comedic effect but you've either got to be really selfless to live in a mobile home with your mom or you're not doing too well in the real world.

So a sketchy looking dude moved in with his mother in the home right behind us and - at some point - his mother moved out.  So we've got a middle-aged handy-man working on cars and trucks and boats fifty feet from our bedroom while using the backyard to store a ton of crap that would do the term "trailer-trash" justice.  Since we got back we have enjoyed a woman yelling at the dude at midnight (gratefully quieting down when I stepped outside and said "hey, guys" to alert them to the fact that they were disturbing others although at that point she did suggest that she needed to get something out of her truck which was apparently parked in the dude's driveway and was inexplicably locked and politely told me I might just have to call the police which did get the dude's attention because the ruckus quieted after that; a lot of grinding gears and backing noises the next night as the dude and his friend backed a large boat under the small canopy; and finally the commencement of The Grinding phase where the dude is doing some kind of work on the boat that involves the destruction of something metal, intermittently, I'm so pleased to report.

I'm sure approximately none of this would pass park rules but the manager is very conflict-adverse, preferring to isolate in the management office most of the day instead of circulating among her people.  So what do I do?  Confront the sketchy due respectfully face-to-face and risk pissing an occasionally volatile man off who lives fifty feet from me?  Rat to the manager who will either do nothing or say something to the dude who will probably know immediately who's complaining and then I'm in the same boat (hah-hah) that I'd be in if I took the first course of action; or do nothing, hoping the work won't last too long and feeling grateful it isn't a constant irritation?  Sometimes I do things that end up making a situation that really isn't that bad much, much worse.  Sometimes I sit back and take it when I should do something to remedy a situation where I'm in the right.

I've talked to a few people.  I've kicked ideas around with SuperK.  I'm writing about it.  At this point I have no good feel for a right course of action which I've learned that I should not - yet, at least - take any action.  

Very frustrating for an action-oriented self-righteous guy who has The Law on his side in this particular instance.

Yadda Yadda Yadda Blah Blah Blah

Here's a couple of good thoughts from stories found in The Grapevine . . . 

"It's a great day when things are going well and I don't drink, and it's an even better day when everything goes wrong and I don't drink."

"And as it turns out, the less I obsess over getting my way, the more life seems to cooperate.  I used to think my legacy would be stamped on an award or etched into the cure of some terrible disease, something grand, something undeniable.  Who knew the real achievement would be this - living a life well won."

I struggled - still struggle sometimes, to be honest about it - with the mundane aspects of life like bathing and using the toilet and sleeping and going to work and all that boring crap that makes up  so much of life.  I wanted life to be the first Friday night at the start of my vacation week, the booze and drugs starting to work their magic, at the top of a big ass roller coaster right before the car starts to fall over that big first drop, the LSD just starting to hit . . .  THAT'S life, right?

That's bullshit is what that is.  Sobriety allows me to take a great deal of pleasure in the simple act of living.  I could not imagine an existence where that would be the source of deep satisfaction.  It sounds so . . . boring, so mundane, so routine, yadda yadda yadda blah blah blah.

"We are sure God wants us to be happy, joyous, and free.  We cannot subscribe to the belief that this life is a vale of tears, though it once was just that for many of us.  But it is clear that we made our own misery.  God didn't do it.  Avoid them, the deliberate manufacture of misery, but if trouble comes (Ed. Note: As it surely will - you can take that to the bank), cheerfully capitalize it as an opportunity to demonstrate his omnipotence."

Alcoholics Anonymous P. 133

The Fellowship

 We talked about the importance of The Fellowship of Alcoholics Anonymous at the meeting today.  We're surprised at how isolated we've become.  The Book talks about the loneliness of the professional isolator and the loneliness of the noisy good-times fellow.  We feel apart and we don't know why and it's a crappy feeling.  Sometimes we're sitting alone with the lights out and the blinds drawn watching crappy TV and we feel lonely and then sometimes we're at a crowded bar and we feel like we're on the outside looking in.  Lonely when alone and lonely in a crowd.  Lonely is bad enough but we're lonely and feeling sorry for ourselves.

I had the pleasure of sharing a cup of hot chocolate with my A.A. daughter this week.  A fiercely independent woman who decides what to do and then just does it.  Not a needy person which suits me just fine.  The thought of anyone checking in with me every day gives me The Shivers.  Sometimes I feel my best self is existing like one of those electronic defibrillators you see hanging on the wall to be used when people my age have coronaries and you get to shock the shit out of them in the hopes their heart starts to beat again.  You don't want to have to use it and you know you won't have to use it very often but it's damn good to know it's there.  If I have just a little time with her she starts to tell me what's going on in her life in more detail and then is surprised that I tell her she talks about herself.  We all need to be the center of attention some of the time.  Not all of the time and not never but some of the time.  It's okay to be the focus of attention.  When I'm expressing myself to a friend I learn things simply by listening to myself talk and I get the counsel of others, people who may have more experience or a different way of looking at whatever I've got going on.

I had the pleasure of talking with one of my A.A. sons after a meeting as well.  The kindest man I know, with a heart as big as Mt. Everest, who internalizes everything and makes it his fault and then he figures out what he needs to do to make the other person feel better.  This makes him kind but it also predisposes him to the agony of the futility in trying to save everyone in the world.  Not everything is his fault although he seems to think so much of the time.  This guy I have to have to praise all the time and he's like a deer in the headlights when I do so, clearly uncomfortable that someone isn't blaming him for everything.

Where's that Doggone God, Anyway?

Back from a long trip to rural Denmark for some green, green Spring hiking.  As a guy who grew up in a temperate climate but now live in a semi-arid one it was deeply, deeply satisfying to be smack in the middle of all that green.  And because we arrived at the very start of Spring and left as Summer was getting under way we got to see how the green changes from a very light shade, becoming darker and darker, the woods bare and sparse at the start and full and dense at the end.  If you're having trouble connecting with a higher power go take a hike in an isolated place.  It doesn't have to be a long one or a difficult one and you can stop when you start to get tired.  You don't have to get anywhere in particular and take time to stop and listen and look and take a deep whiff of the air.  KK has an app that can identify birds by analyzing their songs and I have one that tells you what kind of tree or plant you're looking at so it's important for us to stop from time to time and see what's growing and listen to what's singing.  Even after one short month listening to birds we'd never heard of before we could start to recognize different species by their song.

And nothing forces me into the moment like traveling.  Everything is new and different so I'm forced into a focused awareness.  How do I do this or that, how do I do everything?  Not a lot of regular chores or routine to follow so I can just be where I am.  I can eat a weird cookie or try to figure out a washing machine in a foreign language or . . . or . . . everything!