Pride V. Humility

Pride: An over-high opinion of oneself; exaggerated self-esteem; conceit.

Humility: Having or showing a consciousness of one's own defects or shortcomings; not proud; not self-assertive; modest.


Pride is the keystone of the 7 Deadly Sins. In some quarters it's considered the most serious sin -- not a small achievement since we're talking about the 7 worst sins -- and the one from which all of the other Deadly Sins emanate. I personally don't know where these quarters are: I'm just passing along rumors and unsubstantiated gossip that I've overheard. But pride is the original Mother of all sins, so to speak.

I've also heard some people in totally different quarters use the alternate word"vainglory." It's a great word. Then, if you so choose, you can be vainglorious. It sounds somehow worse and better than proud all at the same time.

It's funny when you think about it, how poorly we have handled the gifts that we've been given. Everybody is given gifts; most of us are given more than our fair share, and some of us are ridiculously blessed, despite all of the bitching we do about how badly we've been screwed.


Unfortunately, we have a tendency to take what we have been given and tell everyone all about it, implying that we are responsible for what we have. "I'm better than you," we think. If you're born with a sharp mind or great athletic ability or, as in my case, you are ridiculously good looking -- they don't call me Horseface for nothing -- then . . . so what? What exactly did you have to do with it?


Now it's important that we are all good stewards of the gifts that we have. Most of us have done a lot of squandering. Let's say that you're a good athlete and you practice hard and get better: I say good for you. That's something to be proud about. The definition of pride suggests that we can have a justified sense of our worth or accomplishments.


So when I bathe and comb my hair and some other attractive person says: "Lookin' good, Horseface!" I can reply: "Well, duh." All I'm saying is that it's OK to be proud of my good lucks, but when I get together with other really good looking people and we make fun of those who are not as good looking, well, that is completely wrong.

I'll try not to do that today.

Anger V. Patience

Anger: A feeling that may result from injury, mistreatment, opposition, etc.; it usually shows itself in a desire to hit out at something or someone else.

Wrath: Inordinate or uncontrolled feelings of hatred and anger.

(I'm putting wrath in because it was one of the original 7 Sins. There has been some tinkering with them over the years by popes and other dudes in the know. Also, I think that the word wrath looks like its meaning. It looks like it's going to come at you).

Patience: The bearing of suffering, provocation, delay, tediousness, etc. with calmness and self-control.

The thing with the 7 Deadly Sins, really, is that it all loops back around to fear. Men especially love anger. It's so manly to get really pissed off. I'm not suggesting that women haven't developed the capacity to pitch a bitch from time to time. I do live with SuperK, after all. I have personal experience, strength, hope, and stark, raving terror to share on this topic. Not now, though. I think she's lurking in the hallway, spying on me.


Instead of saying: "I'm scared," I can just blow my stack, yell and scream and bend things and threaten violence. It's easier than dealing with the fear, especially when I vent my anger at someone smaller and less violent than me. Try it with a child sometime; it's especially effective when you weigh 150 lbs more that the target of your anger.

I try not to do anything when I'm angry. As a general rule, I try to keep my mouth shut most of the time, anyway. When I talk, bad things happen. When I'm angry, I am a total idiot. Not a partial idiot. Full blown idiot.

Anger is the only one of the 7 Sins not associated with selfishness or self-interest.

I don't see how patience can actually exist in the realm that I inhabit.

Thinking About Me

Selfishness. That, we think, is the root of our troubles. Though if we think about it we usually don't think so. We don't think we behave badly and when we do, when even we can't ignore the fact that we are behaving badly, we resentfully seize on the fact that someone else may be behaving badly, too. It helps us to justify our own behavior to do this. Your mistakes are much easier to spot than my own, and much less painful to work on.

"Sure, I robbed that bank," I offer. "But their overdraft fees are ridiculous." This makes sense to me.

So our troubles, we think, are basically of our own making. Boy, is that true in my case. And the few troubles that I haven't caused by behaving badly generally fall under the Shit That Happens to Everyone category. Everybody has problems of money, sex, and power. It's hardly fair to raise such a stink when they happen to me. But my inner 5 year old -- the one that seems to run my life most of the time -- doesn't like it.

"Why did I get sick?" Little Horseface wails. "Why me? Why me? Why not someone else?"

You, for instance.

I do know that I am incapable of overcoming this selfishness on my own. Sometimes that pesky Higher Power comes in handy with this kind of heavy lifting. Mostly, though, my Higher Power puts a lot of work on my plate that I would rather have moved to your plate.

You have a very large plate.

Envy vs. Kindness

Envy: A feeling of discontent and ill will because of another's advantages, possessions, etc.; resentful dislike of another who has something desirable.

Kindness: Sympathetic; friendly; gentle-hearted; tender-hearted; generous.

In Dante's Purgatory the punishment for envy is to have your eyes sewn shut with wire. Ouch.

I don't want what I've got -- I want what you've got. It's not even that I want it, I just don't want you to have it. It's amazing how my sense of self-worth is determined so often by what you have. I can be perfectly content with my life, happily sipping a latte, when I see that you have 17 widgets. I pull the widgets out of my pocket and count 'em. 16.

Suddenly, I'm miserable.

Why I am so obsessed with comparing myself to others is a mystery to me. I've heard that envy is the only one of the 7 Deadly Sins that doesn't give a person any personal satisfaction. At least if you eat 4 donuts you get to eat the donuts. Presumably they taste good. Envy is when I get angry with you for having more donuts than me, even if I don't like donuts. I don't even get to enjoy the white, processed sugar, partially hydrogenated oils, and artificial flavoring that constitutes a donut.

Donuts. Is there anything that they can't do?

Tote That Barge.

Carry: To be a medium for the transmission of.

We talked about the "carrying the message" part of The 12th Step at today's meeting. I'm pretty dramatic about everything under the sun so I see no good reason why I shouldn't be dramatic when it comes to carrying the message. I figure if I can't help a hundred drunks all at once -- not help them, save their souls -- then I can't be bothered. I'm a big picture guy as long as I'm the only guy in the picture.


When I was new I traveled all the time for my job. I tried to go to a meeting every day even when I was out of town because, believe me, I needed to go. Every now and then I'd show up at a church and no one would be there. I didn't need great sobriety or even good sobriety to be at the meeting -- I just needed asses in the seats and a cup of coffee. I needed someone to listen to me unwind the tiresome minutia of all of the drama and tragedy I thought I had in my life.

It doesn't have to be dramatic. I usually don't even know when I've helped someone or put them to sleep. Show up, shake some hands, talk when I have something to say and keep my mouth shut when I don't , which is most of the time.

It's so hard to be this humble.

Sitting on my Ass, or Talking to god?

Semantics: The branch of linguistics concerned with the nature, structure, and, especially, the development and changes, of the meanings of speech forms.

Every 6 months I try to attend a men's 12 Step recovery retreat. It's a two day affair and the leader is always a Jesuit priest with long term sobriety. Some of those guys are pretty whacked out. One of my favorite retreat masters spent some time a few years back talking about prayer and meditation. Really, he was talking about god and how to find that dude or dudette. It's not intuitive for most of us, even if we have a long history in organized religion. We spend a lot of time in our recovery trying to go get god and wrestle him to the ground, and pin him. like we're Bobo Brazil in a Texas Death Match with The Sheik.


He explained how it was possible to find god where god lives. He talked for a while about art and music and nature. He believed that god could be found in those places or mediums. He thought that god was all around us, and not just in churches or books.


"Why do you think monasteries are built in the mountains or in the remote desert or sitting on a bluff overlooking the ocean or a lake?" he asked.


Those monks knew where god hung out. If you want to find god best go to his house. Don't sit on the couch and watch The Television and expect god to pop in, unannounced.


"So," I wondered. "I can sit quietly for an hour and listen to music that I enjoy and be communing with god?" Surprisingly, it made a lot of sense. I like to hike. I walk way back into the woods, tiring myself out, then sit down and hang out for a while. I'm not actually doing anything, but it's a great feeling. I feel part of something. I feel like I belong somewhere. Am I being lazy sitting there on my ass, listening to music or the birds or the mighty mountain lion about to sink his fangs into my neck?


More wanderings and wonderings. I am, once again, trapped in a loop of circular reasoning.

It's about being a tiny part of a bigger whole.

Sloth is on My Mind

I'm still rambling around the ying and the yang of sloth and service. As my friend Dud said to me long ago: "It's one of your ancient riffs. Rock on."

Most days I head down to my local coffee shop for my AM blast of caffeine. I sit outside, mostly keeping to myself, and I write and read the paper. Mostly though, I sit and watch the world spin by. I'm often at peace when I do this. I pray a little and try to meditate from time to time, but really what I do is sit and let my mind wander pleasantly. I'm relaxed and content and stopped. When I'm worried about something I often find that the solutions come to me during this time. I don't bring my PC or cell phone; I consciously make the decision to disconnect from all the crap that works to wreck my reverie. Let the world whirl.


People from The Program come by often to get coffee, and sometimes they have time to talk. A couple of guys pull over and stop when they see me outside. I've gotten to know the mostly young employees who run the place. I think that they like to see me. I get hugs. They say that they're glad to see me, anyway. I took an out of town friend to visit once, and he asked if I was a regular customer.

One of the employees, a college aged woman -- which does wonders for my ego -- said: "He's one of our favorite customers." It's one of the rewards of taking the time to get to know someone. I'm not generally interested in people until I make an effort to learn something about them. I remember to ask specific questions about what's happening in their lives. People always seem so surprised that I remember what they've got going on.

How do I put a value on this?