An Intuitive What Now?

I'll say this: All motion is easier than calm waiting.

From our literature: "If we have to determine which of two courses to take, we ask god for inspiration, an intuitive thought, or a decision.  Then we relax and take it easy, and we are often surprised how the right answers come after we have tried this for a while."

I like the implications of the word "surprised."  I'm often surprised at the results of The Program.    I don't know why this is surprising any more but it is.  However, I don't much like the "after we have tried this for a while" part,  being more of an instant coffee kind of guy.   Instant coffee sucks but it's, well, instant, and I'm fast as hell.  I run into a lot of solid obstacles but I get to them in a hurry.

There is some good shit in The Book.  I really should read it more often; better yet, I should pay attention when I'm reading it.

An Architectural Primer

Doors and windows and hallways are all pretty standard features of your modern super-building.  Which makes it odd that I don't really understand what they are and what they do and where they can be found.  I'm more of a blaze-your-own-trail kind of guy - if I want to go somewhere I go there, to the best of my ability, with no regard to doors and walls  .  .  . did I mention walls?  They can be important obstacles, too, unless you own your own modern super-bulldozer like I do.  I thought of a destination; I visualized the destination, albeit through a heavy miasma of drugs and alcohol; I made for the destination.  Often I was on the tenth floor of a modern super-skyscraper, in a windowless hallway made of stainless steel walls and my bulldozer was out of diesel, but I'm not one to let minor obstacles get in the way of me getting what I think I want.

Sometimes I don't even know I'm looking for a door until a huge industrial door appears before me.  I could drive a $%!! Mack truck through this door and I'm wandering around wondering what the hell's going on.  Suit up, show up, get on the trail and start making some progress is my occasional motto.  Stay on the trail and move forward.  

It becomes clear.

Really, Really Big Shew

I'm not sure why everything is such a big production with me.  I'm not sure why I have to make everything such a big deal: complicated and intense and overly important.  I am sure, however, that if I spoke to anyone with any knowledge or experience with a spiritual life that this would not rank high on their recommendation list.  

One of our slogans is "Keep It Simple."  This is a good slogan.  This is a very, very good slogan.

BMW Difficulties

I'm having BMW problems this morning.  Not terrible problems but problems nonetheless.  This means that I should be taken out to the back yard, slathered with molasses, and staked to a red ant hill.  I'm going with "molasses" and not the more popular "honey" because "molasses" is a funnier sounding word.  It's not a funnier sweetener, necessarily, but it does sound goofier.  And I went with the very popular "red" ants because they sound more venomous than your run-of-the-mill "black ants," which may very well have a horrible, horrible bite for all I know.

I did make a few phone calls to a few trusted friends to talk about these terrible, terrible problems.  I made sure to call some guys that I abuse on a regular basis because I want to make sure that every now and then I lob up a big, fat softball that they can whack out of the park.  I had to leave messages - a good thing as well because it allows them to prepare some cruel, cruel repartee when they call back - IF they call back, no certainty given all of the abuse I've heaped upon their heads over the years.

I dish it out so I better be able to take it.

Like a Rhino On Meth

As I charge headlong directly into one of my major, major life fantasies that doesn't include anything that can be found in my nether regions - namely, living in a place where I'll be warm most of the time - I continually question my motives.  I feel guilty when good things happen to me or when I'm pursuing something I want.  Some of these feelings are justified - I don't have a great track record of selfless motives - but some of them are bullshit.  I'm selfish, not evil.  

The Book is full of great suggestions and observations about Willpower, the direct application of our Instincts.  The literature intimates that our instinctual desires for sex, money, and power are a tad out of whack, that we grab and grab for far more than is our right or due.  However, we're also not aware of any cases where the instinctual drives have been entirely eliminated.  So we're left with these things that we can't get rid of and that we need to survive but that we don't have the slightest idea how to use properly.

I'm not going to quote directly from the literature because all of the LSD I did in college has fried my short term memory pretty good - plus I'm too lazy to look up the passages - but there's some great stuff on the proper use of the willpower.  It suggests that we tend to bombard our problems with our willpower to try to get our own way, that we should try instead to align our willpower with the wishes of god.  One section says that we can do this to our heart's content because it is a proper use of the willpower.  We can employ our mental faculties to our heart's content when we're behaving in this way.

So I try to get into the middle place - not quaking with fear, afraid to try anything new, and not charging ahead like a rhino on meth, running headlong into immovable objects, finding that I'm not the unstoppable force that I thought I was.

Warm warm warm warm warm.

You Say Goodbye - I Say Hello

I have never been very good with traffic signals.  I get confused as to when I should be moving forward and when I should stop, and stay stopped.  I was the guy blithely sailing down a suburban street, blowing through stop sign after stop sign, beer in one hand, joint in the other, Black Sabbath's "Into The Void" turned up loud enough to rattle the windows on passing houses.  I was the guy sitting stopped at a green light, car horns startling me out of a drugged reverie, wondering what all of the ruckus was about.

There's a yellow light?

Perpetual Motion

There's a guy who attends my regular 7AM meetings who often brings his daughter along - she's 4 or 5, quiet and well-behaved, and very popular with everyone.   This dude, who is the birthday chip coordinator for this group, showed up a little late with both his daughter and infant son, who appears to be about 2.  God did not program 2 year olds to sit quietly.  This little guy is a marvel of perpetual motion.  He was not unruly; he did not talk or yell or cry; he just moved, touching and investigating everything he could get his hands on.  My buddy wanted to come to the meeting because it was his 9 month anniversary and he wanted to share this with his home group.

His sponsor gave the short talk to get the meeting started.  It was nearly impossible to ignore the little boy - he was making a steady, sustained commotion.  The speaker soldiered on.  I've been there - I know how hard it is to keep your train of thought when there's a big racket in the background.  He reminded me of a jet fighter pilot trying to land his supersonic plane on an aircraft carrier at night.  In a thunderstorm.  With people shooting at him.

It was frustrating but the group closed ranks around the new guy.  He left early, as soon as he passed out the chips, and he called his sponsor to apologize.  He doesn't make a habit of bringing both of his kids - it is important that we conduct our meetings with respect and some sense of decorum.  It's also important that everyone has a place to go.