Here's the minor Buddhist again, trying to convince practical German peasants like me that meditation is worth my time: "Suddenly the solution is there. It just pops out of the deep mind and you say, 'Ah ha!' and the whole thing is solved." When I first read the famous Promises of AA lore I marveled at how empty and indistinct they seemed. Today I marvel at how utterly profound they are. One of the great Promises suggests that "we will intuitively know how to handle situations that used to baffle us." I was skeptical of this dubious idea at first.
Some of us think these solutions are god-centered and come from a place not of this world. Some of us think that the mind is an amazing thing if we can only stop letting the superficial parts run the show, the parts that clamor for more pleasure and less pain, for more money, sex, and power. Like most people who have worked away at this I have a thick ledger full of situations where I prayed and meditated and made a decision, sometimes on weighty matters, that seemed to run counter to logical reasoning and had the whole thing turn out wonderfully. The Xs and the Os seemed to suggest something, and the deep circuitry led me to something else.
I don't know what to call this anymore. Frankly, I don't care. I don't know why I make the choices I do some of the time but it's nice not always blowing everything up while I try to talk with my foot in my mouth. I go with the Little Man on my shoulder. I do what he says. All I know is that the information is coming from someplace that I don't fully understand. It trumps my logic; it supplements my conscious mind without replacing it.
Well, I don't meditate because I LIKE meditating.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Monday, August 22, 2011
Appearances
Appearance: Generally refers to the outward impression of a thing while often implying mere show or pretense.
I do a great job of quickly sizing up someone based solely on their appearance, placing them in a category with strict qualifications, then loving them or despising them accordingly. This happens fast. The funny thing -- not ha ha funny but sad pathetic funny -- is that I'm almost never right in my judgment. I put people in a Box. It's very difficult to get out of my Boxes. I assume everyone else does it to me so I've developed a lot of mere show and pretense to fake out the competition. Look left and go right with a head fake thrown in for good measure.
In the Old City I had a guy ask me to be his sponsor. He looked like a Hell's Angel. I mean, really: shaved head, goatee, tattoos, Harley cycle, the whole bit. Really one of the nicest guys I've worked with in The Program: smart, kind, good sense of humor, a real pleasure to know. Now, I'm not saying he didn't do some damage with a belly full of beer when he was in his day but I never got to see that. All I know is that he looked like a Hell's Angel but acted like a social worker.
I've learned today to set aside the impressions that I form based on someone's appearance or the type of car they drive or what kind of work they do or where they live and go over and talk to the person. It's not natural. This is an acquired taste. I've found that the people I put in the Cool Box turn out to be not so cool and the people that I don't think are going to be worth my precious, precious, precious time end up being so worth my precious, precious time. You used to be Better Than Me and I resented you, or you were Worse Than Me, and I scorned your very existence.
This has to be more control.
I do a great job of quickly sizing up someone based solely on their appearance, placing them in a category with strict qualifications, then loving them or despising them accordingly. This happens fast. The funny thing -- not ha ha funny but sad pathetic funny -- is that I'm almost never right in my judgment. I put people in a Box. It's very difficult to get out of my Boxes. I assume everyone else does it to me so I've developed a lot of mere show and pretense to fake out the competition. Look left and go right with a head fake thrown in for good measure.
In the Old City I had a guy ask me to be his sponsor. He looked like a Hell's Angel. I mean, really: shaved head, goatee, tattoos, Harley cycle, the whole bit. Really one of the nicest guys I've worked with in The Program: smart, kind, good sense of humor, a real pleasure to know. Now, I'm not saying he didn't do some damage with a belly full of beer when he was in his day but I never got to see that. All I know is that he looked like a Hell's Angel but acted like a social worker.
I've learned today to set aside the impressions that I form based on someone's appearance or the type of car they drive or what kind of work they do or where they live and go over and talk to the person. It's not natural. This is an acquired taste. I've found that the people I put in the Cool Box turn out to be not so cool and the people that I don't think are going to be worth my precious, precious, precious time end up being so worth my precious, precious time. You used to be Better Than Me and I resented you, or you were Worse Than Me, and I scorned your very existence.
This has to be more control.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
The Conundrum
Compliment: Something said in admiration or praise.
The only thing that irritates me more than being criticized is trying to figure out what to do with a compliment. Compliments make me really, really uncomfortable. In a surprisingly substantial way I enjoy the criticism more than the praise. I know what to do with the criticism. I feel shitty about myself anyhow so I secretly believe that the criticism is justified; in fact, I'm just lucky the criticizer doesn't really know all about me. They're merely scratching the surface; it would be a blood bath if they knew my deep, dark secrets (Ed note: by "deep, dark secrets" I mean "fairly ordinary things that I've blown way out of proportion). And when someone says something that isn't complimentary I get to fight back, which I love to do, or I get to run away, which I love to do even more.
I've come to believe that this is not only unfair to myself, it's unfair to the person who is trying to be nice. Today I think the right answer to a compliment should fall along the lines of: "Thank you. I appreciate that. What a nice thing to say." Today I personally enjoy dispensing compliments; it makes me feel good to say something nice to someone else. It's fairly disappointing when the other person tries to fight off my kind words with excuses or sarcasm, even though I understand the impulse. As an Egomaniac with an Inferiority Complex I crave your praise at the same time it's making me uncomfortable.
I can take a blow. I can't take a pat on the back.
The only thing that irritates me more than being criticized is trying to figure out what to do with a compliment. Compliments make me really, really uncomfortable. In a surprisingly substantial way I enjoy the criticism more than the praise. I know what to do with the criticism. I feel shitty about myself anyhow so I secretly believe that the criticism is justified; in fact, I'm just lucky the criticizer doesn't really know all about me. They're merely scratching the surface; it would be a blood bath if they knew my deep, dark secrets (Ed note: by "deep, dark secrets" I mean "fairly ordinary things that I've blown way out of proportion). And when someone says something that isn't complimentary I get to fight back, which I love to do, or I get to run away, which I love to do even more.
I've come to believe that this is not only unfair to myself, it's unfair to the person who is trying to be nice. Today I think the right answer to a compliment should fall along the lines of: "Thank you. I appreciate that. What a nice thing to say." Today I personally enjoy dispensing compliments; it makes me feel good to say something nice to someone else. It's fairly disappointing when the other person tries to fight off my kind words with excuses or sarcasm, even though I understand the impulse. As an Egomaniac with an Inferiority Complex I crave your praise at the same time it's making me uncomfortable.
I can take a blow. I can't take a pat on the back.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
People, Can We All Just Get Along?
Society: Any organized group of people joined together because of some interest in common.
I'm repeating myself here, saying the same things over and over because I can't remember what I did 20 minutes ago let alone last week, but I think often of the time early in my sobriety when I tried to refuse a service position by explaining that I didn't drink coffee at night. Why would I come to a meeting early to make coffee for other people, especially when I wasn't going to be paid or at least lavishly praised? Never mind the criticizing about the bad coffee that I endured; I'm glad I didn't know that was coming.
This was how I perceived the world: as a Zero Sum Game. There was a certain amount of everything and my goal was to accumulate as large a pile as possible. I was vaguely aware that this would come at the expense of the piles of other people, but I didn't care about other people at that point. I certainly wasn't going to take anything off of my pile to give to anyone else. I had done a lot of work to build that pile.
More from the minor Buddhist: "You've got to see your own place in society and your function as a social being. You've got to see your duties and obligations to your fellow human beings, and above all, your responsibility to yourself as an individual living with other individuals."
Man, does that sound like The Fellowship. That's nothing more than a fancy rewording of the First Tradition, which cautions us that the individual is never more important than the organization as a whole.
And I don't want to harp on the Buddhist tradition, either. The Bible is filled with examples of Jesus serving others. I can almost hear him muttering under his breath as he washed the feet of the disciples: "Do I have to show these idiots everything? MY feet are killing me, my bunions need a good massaging, and I could use a new pair of sandals from Columbia." He knew the showing was better than the telling.
Those damn disciples, anyway.
I'm repeating myself here, saying the same things over and over because I can't remember what I did 20 minutes ago let alone last week, but I think often of the time early in my sobriety when I tried to refuse a service position by explaining that I didn't drink coffee at night. Why would I come to a meeting early to make coffee for other people, especially when I wasn't going to be paid or at least lavishly praised? Never mind the criticizing about the bad coffee that I endured; I'm glad I didn't know that was coming.
This was how I perceived the world: as a Zero Sum Game. There was a certain amount of everything and my goal was to accumulate as large a pile as possible. I was vaguely aware that this would come at the expense of the piles of other people, but I didn't care about other people at that point. I certainly wasn't going to take anything off of my pile to give to anyone else. I had done a lot of work to build that pile.
More from the minor Buddhist: "You've got to see your own place in society and your function as a social being. You've got to see your duties and obligations to your fellow human beings, and above all, your responsibility to yourself as an individual living with other individuals."
Man, does that sound like The Fellowship. That's nothing more than a fancy rewording of the First Tradition, which cautions us that the individual is never more important than the organization as a whole.
And I don't want to harp on the Buddhist tradition, either. The Bible is filled with examples of Jesus serving others. I can almost hear him muttering under his breath as he washed the feet of the disciples: "Do I have to show these idiots everything? MY feet are killing me, my bunions need a good massaging, and I could use a new pair of sandals from Columbia." He knew the showing was better than the telling.
Those damn disciples, anyway.
To Dream the Impossible Dream
Impossible: Not capable of being, being done, or happening.
In case you're under the impression that The Program is based on some type of new and undiscovered spirituality take a gander at these words found in a book written by a Buddhist dude of no special import: "No matter how much you just gained, you are either going to lose some of it or spend the rest of your days guarding what you have got and scheming how to get more."
This concept can be found, almost word for word, at the end of Step Seven. Bill reminds us that the result of this type of life philosophy is that we will be "living upon a basis of unsatisfied demands in a state of continual disturbance and frustration." That sounds like me when I staggered into the rooms. That sounds like me from time to time in my sobriety. My main accomplishment today is that I'm not disturbed and frustrated all of the time, or even most of the time. That may not sound like much but for a guy who was afraid and upset 24/7 it's not a bad place to be.
Today I understand that I'm not going to get everything I want. It's impossible. It doesn't mean that I can't desire something but rather that I'm not compelled to chase after it. It doesn't mean that I'm not going to fear something else but rather that I'm not condemned to quake in fear.
In case you're under the impression that The Program is based on some type of new and undiscovered spirituality take a gander at these words found in a book written by a Buddhist dude of no special import: "No matter how much you just gained, you are either going to lose some of it or spend the rest of your days guarding what you have got and scheming how to get more."
This concept can be found, almost word for word, at the end of Step Seven. Bill reminds us that the result of this type of life philosophy is that we will be "living upon a basis of unsatisfied demands in a state of continual disturbance and frustration." That sounds like me when I staggered into the rooms. That sounds like me from time to time in my sobriety. My main accomplishment today is that I'm not disturbed and frustrated all of the time, or even most of the time. That may not sound like much but for a guy who was afraid and upset 24/7 it's not a bad place to be.
Today I understand that I'm not going to get everything I want. It's impossible. It doesn't mean that I can't desire something but rather that I'm not compelled to chase after it. It doesn't mean that I'm not going to fear something else but rather that I'm not condemned to quake in fear.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
By Meditation I Mean . . .
Intuition: The immediate knowing or learning of something without the conscious use of reasoning; instantaneous apprehension.
I have started supplementing my morning prayer and meditation (editors note: by "meditation I mean "falling asleep, daydreaming, or fantasizing") with about 20 minutes of afternoon meditation. As a morning person my mood is usually pretty good at the start of the day; I have the most trouble with my attitude from about 3 to 6 PM. This is the time of day that I start to worry that I haven't accomplished enough. There is often no direct correlation between what I have done and how I feel about it. It's almost never enough. I could always have done more.
Often when I meditate I try to concentrate on my breathing, on the sensation of air moving in and out of my body. One of the theories as to why this is so effective is that taking in O2 is something that connects me to all living things, from the lowly newt to the mighty aardvark. I have to remember that I'm trying to be a part of things. I'm trying to override my tendency to feel different, apart, other.
In the afternoon I have been playing around with the visualization thing. Sometimes I imagine that I'm in a conveyance moving forward quietly -- a canoe on a river, an elevated log flume, an electric train. I'm in the first seat so I can watch everything glide by. I can see my things go by but I don't have to do anything about it. Sometimes I imagine that I'm flying -- which is pretty cool; I have big bird wings that I can flap -- or drifting in a hot air balloon, or hang gliding. I'm looking down on everything. I can see it down there, passing slowly by, but I can't do anything about it. It's quiet.
Meditation has gotten easier for me but it still isn't easy. My gibbering mind likes to get in there and make a lot of noise, to distract me for what reason I do not know. The amazing thing is that the more I do this the more the world quiets down and makes sense. Not always right then, when I'm meditating, either, but I feel good at the end of the day. I've been in the moment, not worrying about things that I can't fix or change.
It's pretty cool.
It's pretty cool. I have no idea how it works.
I have started supplementing my morning prayer and meditation (editors note: by "meditation I mean "falling asleep, daydreaming, or fantasizing") with about 20 minutes of afternoon meditation. As a morning person my mood is usually pretty good at the start of the day; I have the most trouble with my attitude from about 3 to 6 PM. This is the time of day that I start to worry that I haven't accomplished enough. There is often no direct correlation between what I have done and how I feel about it. It's almost never enough. I could always have done more.
Often when I meditate I try to concentrate on my breathing, on the sensation of air moving in and out of my body. One of the theories as to why this is so effective is that taking in O2 is something that connects me to all living things, from the lowly newt to the mighty aardvark. I have to remember that I'm trying to be a part of things. I'm trying to override my tendency to feel different, apart, other.
In the afternoon I have been playing around with the visualization thing. Sometimes I imagine that I'm in a conveyance moving forward quietly -- a canoe on a river, an elevated log flume, an electric train. I'm in the first seat so I can watch everything glide by. I can see my things go by but I don't have to do anything about it. Sometimes I imagine that I'm flying -- which is pretty cool; I have big bird wings that I can flap -- or drifting in a hot air balloon, or hang gliding. I'm looking down on everything. I can see it down there, passing slowly by, but I can't do anything about it. It's quiet.
Meditation has gotten easier for me but it still isn't easy. My gibbering mind likes to get in there and make a lot of noise, to distract me for what reason I do not know. The amazing thing is that the more I do this the more the world quiets down and makes sense. Not always right then, when I'm meditating, either, but I feel good at the end of the day. I've been in the moment, not worrying about things that I can't fix or change.
It's pretty cool.
It's pretty cool. I have no idea how it works.
Monday, August 15, 2011
The Big Picture
Roughly 24 years ago today I quit smoking dope and began a run of continuous sobriety. That continuous part is really critical. Farmer Bill used to interrupt me when I was announcing my anniversary in the Old Town: "Is that continuous sobriety?" he'd ask. "Oh, continuous?" I'd say. "I didn't realize it had to be continuous." I had quit drinking about 6 months before I finally quit using. Apparently, my interpretation of The Program at the start didn't require that I give up weed. I was vaguely uneasy taking 30, 60, and 90 day chips but not uneasy enough to mention that I was smoking dope. I decided to try the Marijuana Maintenance Plan to ease into recovery, even though it was no recovery at all.
Anyway, if there's one thing I've learned in sobriety it's this: Everything works out in the long run. There aren't many promises in the short term; we eat some shit sandwiches in the short term, but The Big Picture is rosy and earns good money at the box office.
As a great example, about this time in 2006 The Evil Corporation bought the company I worked for. I could see the handwriting on the wall: Things were bad and they were going to get worse. A lot worse, and quickly. I was upset for a period of time. Not a little upset, either, but quite upset. Today I see that I was somewhat off on my prediction of how long this awful cataclysm would take to ruin my life, believing "quickly" to be 5 weeks, maybe 5 months, not 5 years.
Whoever sold me my crystal ball screwed me to the wall, that's for sure.
Anyway, if there's one thing I've learned in sobriety it's this: Everything works out in the long run. There aren't many promises in the short term; we eat some shit sandwiches in the short term, but The Big Picture is rosy and earns good money at the box office.
As a great example, about this time in 2006 The Evil Corporation bought the company I worked for. I could see the handwriting on the wall: Things were bad and they were going to get worse. A lot worse, and quickly. I was upset for a period of time. Not a little upset, either, but quite upset. Today I see that I was somewhat off on my prediction of how long this awful cataclysm would take to ruin my life, believing "quickly" to be 5 weeks, maybe 5 months, not 5 years.
Whoever sold me my crystal ball screwed me to the wall, that's for sure.
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