I Declare My Annoyance

Complain: To express pain, dissatisfaction, etc.; to find fault; declare annoyance.

Today I'm going to complain. I'm going to let 'er rip and bitch about everything. I'm going to find fault wherever I can. It's not too hard, in this magnificently flawed world, to see that everything is broken and in decline, never to improve. I'm submerged in mediocrity, surrounded by fools and jesters who are just making things worse. Everyone is doing it wrong, from the most powerful government to the lowliest tech support worker manning the help desk.


I have a bad pair of glasses. They magnify the problem and blur the solution. I'm obsessed with the problem. I'm mesmerized by failure. I can spot the flaw at a hundred paces in a driving rainstorm in the blackest night, while I'm in a coma. I can take perfection and chop it to bits. I can see the speck in your eye.

This is easier than working on my own defects.

Prayer -- Request or Demand?

Prayer: An earnest request; entreaty; supplication.

The founders of our Program put a lot of stock in prayer and meditation. They dedicated a whole Step to them. A long Step. This would seem to indicate to me that prayer and meditation are going to be an important part of my recovery. These twin engines of serenity, however, can be tricky to implement. It's not easy getting God to do what I want and it's pretty boring trying to settle down for a few minutes and listen to what he has to say.

Of the two, prayer is a little easier. It's the time where we try to tell God what he should do for us. It is our time to lay down the divine law. We can spell out in great detail what needs to happen today. We concentrate on today -- it is "One day at a time" after all -- but we should feel free to leap out into the future to head off any coming unpleasantness. We put special emphasis on the things that we want. We carefully enumerate anything that may cause us pain. God can be a little unclear on how to implement our wishes.

Tomorrow: Meditation techniques.

What's that you say?

Listen: To make a conscious to hear; attend closely, so as to hear.

I'm always a little suspicious of my motives when I share at a meeting. I think that I enjoy being on the Big Stage enthralling a captive audience with amazing stories of my profound recovery. After all, most people sit there and listen politely, or pretend to listen politely, at least. No one has ever told me to shut up -- not loud enough for me to hear, anyway. I have not been heckled or hit with rotten fruit hurled from the back row. I'm pretty agile -- I have been able to duck when I see a tomato coming my way. It's a legacy from all of the shucking and jiving and juking that I used to do.

I have a tendency to exaggerate. It's very hard for me to share my story in a simple, unembellished manner. When I talk about my drinking exploits, I want to impress people with how bad they were, when mostly I got drunk by myself in front of the television. I try too hard to be funny -- it's OK to make people laugh but this isn't the Improv. There aren't any executives from NBC in the audience scouting out talent for a new sitcom. Worst of all, I told so many lies when I was drinking that I believe some of them to this day. They have become embedded deep in my self-conscious. Sometimes I think: "Why am I telling this story? I don't think I ever got married to a jungle princess in Madagascar."

I help myself more by listening.

Twelve -- All Inclusive, In Order

I believe that if I don't want to drink again that I have to work the Twelve Steps. I believe that the whole concept of my recovery is based on applying the principles found in these Steps to my alcoholism. I believe that people who pick up a drink -- sometimes after significant periods of sobriety -- have quit working the Twelve Steps in any meaningful fashion.

I can get caught up in the mechanics of recovery and forget to practice these principles in all of my affairs, which is the end result of working the Steps. I can spend a lot of time doing all of the recommended things -- going to meetings, calling my sponsor, reading the literature -- and totally ignore the essence of the Program. Sometimes I'm just going through the motions. Sometimes I just phone it in.

I'm not suggesting that these aren't good things to do or that they won't help me stay sober. Personally, I have to do them or I believe that I will drink again. It's my experience that it's possible to do all the right things without buying into the Twelve Step concept. There are plenty of sober assholes. Maybe I'm one of them.

I was an active, drunken member of the Fellowship for 18 months before I got sober. I wasn't doing the Steps. I had a guy grab me by the collar and give me some pointed instructions on how to get started on working the Steps.

Pissed me off, I can tell you that. Got me sober, though.

Orderly Transfer of Power

Will: Something wished by a person, especially by one with power or authority.

I definitely have a will. I definitely wish for a lot of things. I wish that I had the power and authority to get all of those things, I know that much. Initially, I struggled with what it meant to turn my will over to a Higher Power of some sort. This concept made a lot more sense when I started to equate my will with all of the stuff that I lusted after. All of those Porsches and casual sexual encounters with exciting and willing partners who I never had to see again. All of those bags of money and people working hard to make sure that I was comfortable.

Turning my will over to my Higher Power takes some work on my part. It takes a sustained effort. I have never had any luck turning my will over when I'm laying on the couch watching Gilligan's Island. This is an action which requires that I hand over all of my power to something else. It means that I relinquish this power. There is nothing passive about it.

Once again, I have some work to do.

No More Excuses

My favorite meeting each week is a Big Book study that a few of us facilitate at a local state administered involuntary hotel and spa resort. Yesterday was a holiday so the guys had a free day -- no obligations or mandatory programs to attend. Unlimited TV time and an animated corn-hole tournament. Attendance at our meeting dropped from twenty inmates to five.

Our experience is that if an inmate doesn't attend a meeting the very day of their release then they probably won't ever attend a meeting, that this will lead to a drug or alcohol relapse, and that they will end up back in jail. To a man, everyone assures us that they will make a phone call to another recovering alcoholic and that they will go to a meeting every day. They aren't lying -- they really believe this. We pointed out to the Hardy Five attending our meeting that the distractions are going to be much more powerful on the outside. If someone can't be bothered to walk across a room and spend an hour on their recovery while they are locked up, there isn't much chance that they will be able to resist the temptations on the outside.

I didn't stay sober until I started thinking of The Program as oxygen. I don't have the option of not breathing today. It's number one on my list of things to do. I don't have the option of not working on my recovery today. At the start of each week, I automatically sketch out what I'm going to do to stay sober. I work around every distraction and obligation. There are a million meetings out there. There is plenty of time to pray or read our literature. A two minute phone call can energize me for hours.

I was never too busy to drink. I'm never too busy to work on my recovery.

Just One of the Cows in the Herd

Ordinary: Usual; regular; normal, unexceptional; common.

Here's a sentence from our literature: "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." Well, no shit, Sherlock. I have sought to be a titan among titans. I want to be King of the Titans. I want to wield the Sword of Absolute Power, that's what I want.

My spirits fell when I first read this passage. There were few ideas in our Fellowship that I found so discouraging. It seemed to recommend that I should strive to be so . . . ordinary. This is a difficult concept for an extraordinarily extraordinary person like myself. I'm a leader of men. I'm a slayer of dragons. I'm a thinker of great thoughts. I'm a maker of bongs and a drinker of beer. I'm the driver of the porcelain bus.

"Always we tried to struggle to the top of the heap, or to hide underneath it." I'm an egomaniac with an inferiority complex. I'm the greatest piece of garbage that ever walked the face of the earth.

What an ego I have. What nerve to think that my actions are so important or my place in the world is so exalted.