Point - Counter Point

Potential:  Existing in possibility, not in actuality.

My friend Little Westside Jonny bought a new car recently.  He researched it to death and drove a couple of salespeople right up to the brink of insanity if what he's telling me is true, no sure thing.  However, this is not the point.  The point is not what he may or may not have done to innocent car salespeople or how accurate, truth-wise, his accounting of the events may be but rather that he bought a car that he had thoroughly researched, driven more than once, and sought expert counsel on, and still experienced buyer's remorse for a couple of days.

"That sounds about right," I remarked, an expert in buyer's remorse myself.

As I may have mentioned we have been doing some work on our home.  The guys doing the work are good friends from The Program, guys who are working away on The Steps and the principles of recovery, guys I trust.

I ask myself this: why, then, do I suspect that they are lying, cheating pieces of #$!!?

I answer this-a-way: Because money is involved, a lot of money in my little world.  There are a couple of things that have really stuck in my craw consistently over the years, and one of them has been money.  I can't explain why.  I have enough money to be comfortable.  I've been hosed out of my money almost never.  I don't begrudge the wages I'm paying these men.  I can afford the work that they're doing, and doing very well.  My Higher Power put me in jobs that I never, ever would have thrived in had I continued to drink and drug.

Still . . . . something HAS to be amiss.

As the job was nearing completion a couple of complications came up that definitely cost me some money and had the potential to cost me more money.  I paid the definite money - it seemed reasonable - I balked at the potential money - it did not.  Now mind you the potential money was just that - potential.  In the future, maybe.  Not yet fact except in my twisted and diseased mind.

What I do is what I always do: begin a series of hypothetical discussions, arguments, and conflicts in my mind.  No one is there but me - me, talking to someone who is not there, over and over and over I go, rehashing facts and theories, parrying thrusts, developing counterpoints, coming to a reasonable conclusion sometimes and sometimes ruining a friendship over a few dollars.  All in my mind.  All upstairs, a tempest in a teapot.

What happened is what usually happens: nothing.  My friend asked for no extra money.  I am trying not to lie when I say that I spent 3 or 4 hours having this discussions with myself, preparing for something that never happened.

Good use of my time, yes?

Not Not Stealing

Steal:  To appropriate without giving credit or acknowledgement.

And then there's Astya: Non-stealing.  Not taking that which is not given.

I know that I spent a great deal of time patting myself on the back because I wasn't a bank robber or shoplifter.  I spent a lot of time congratulating myself for not being an absolute scumbag.  That's why a lot of us keep looking for new places to hang out and new people to hang out with.  There was a lot of "if I ever get as bad as THAT guy, then I'll quit drinking" talk going around."

But I did a tremendous amount of low level stuff.  I took office supplies, I didn't pay all the taxes I should have paid (9th Step rectified) or repay all of the money I borrowed (since corrected), I made long distance phone calls on company phones, that kind of stuff.  Little stuff that doesn't really count as stealing as long as you have the moral rectitude of Charles Manson.  And I stole thousands of hours of time from employers, doing non-work during working hours.  How about peace of mind?  Do you think I stole any peace of mind from my family and friends and bosses?

Shit.

I'ma  great justifier.  I can take acts that are clearly illegal or immoral or unjust and convince myself that I'm justified in my behavior.  The "well, they're not paying me enough" or the "well, everybody gets away with a little tax fraud, and mine is so small compared to the guys who are really cheating."  While it may be marginally better to steal a little than to steal a lot, it's still stealing.  It's like lying that way - you're telling the truth or you're not.

Take Care of Your Esophagus

Stuff:  (Slang; informal) Substitution for trivial details.

I was talking to Willie today about his original sponsor, a man who passed away in peace and with dignity, sober for many years.  I shared about a in-law who came to the end of his life in a total panic, trying to right many years of selfish behavior at the last minute, begging friends and family to give to him the affection and care that he withheld from them.  It isn't hard to figure out who puts a lot of energy into a spiritual way of life and who doesn't.

A few years ago I wasn't feeling very productive so I put together a list of what I considered my most memorable accomplishments.  I revisited this list recently after reading the obituary of a high school classmate who died recently of esophageal cancer (Ed. note: never a good sign when someone you partied heartily with in high school dies and Ed. note redux: always suspicious when someone I partied heartily with dies of an esophageal affliction - alcohol seems to have an affinity for afflicting the esophagus).  This guy had a lot of "stuff" to put in his obituary - president of this society and member of that foundation and so forth.  Always make me wonder if I've done enough. and I've NEVER done enough.  I'm a guy looking for reasons to feel bad.

I'm impressed with the general tenor of the dreaded gratitude meetings in our Fellowship. There's a lot of gratitude for things that don't rank very high on society's Gotta Have list - no Corvettes or ocean-side villas or stuff like that.  My list was all about people and my relationship with a higher power who helps the world make sense.  Don't get me wrong - I've a lot of nice stuff and I thank my higher power for it every morning, before I get out of my easy chair, but it's the people that make life worth it, and the experiences, and the fact that the world really does kinda make sense.

who da thunk it?

In an Instant

A lot of time I take my life for granted.  It's a fragile thing, really, being alive.  Our bodies are amazingly resilient but that spark can be snuffed in an instant.  Pondering the rogue cells running amok in my sponsor's body or my Amazing Unicycle Trick the other day has made me stop and think, appreciate how easily it can all go away.

I was cruising down an empty, flat, straight, dry highway several years back, early in the morning, heading to a factory in some small town.  There was a pick-up truck ahead of me.  I watched as the truck drifted just onto the grass in the highway medium, the driver perhaps distracted by a phone or the radio, or maybe he dozed off.  He over-corrected to get the vehicle back on the pavement and doing so at a fairly high rate of speed caused the truck to start fishtailing.  As I put on my brakes I watched in horrified fascination as the leading edge of the right side of the truck started to lift off the ground.  It was odd seeing something that heavy start to fly - my brain didn't have an experience to compare it to.  And it was another slow-motion brain event - I clearly remember everything in great detail. 

The truck got just about high enough, started to pirouette,  and then it went over on its side and started to roll over and over and over.  It made a noise I couldn't calculate - a big metal-on-cement boom, boom, boom, shit and glass flying up into the air.  The truck crossed the two lanes, luckily free of traffic, and disappeared over a small grade on the side of the road, big clumps of grass and mud flying up into the air, coming to rest against a metal retaining fence.

I pulled off the road and waded through thigh-high grass until I got close to the truck, pointing away from me.  I could see a young man - a kid, really - sitting in the driver's seat.  I'll tell you I didn't go too close - if there was a mess in there, and that was a real possibility given the violence of the crash, I didn't want to be any part of it.  I'm no EMT.  Luckily, he was banged up but not seriously hurt.  I got him to turn the engine off and get out of the truck, afraid that it might burst into flames.  By that time another few cars had stopped so I climbed back into my car and continued my commute.

I don't know what I was doing when the great fish-tail started.  I'm pretty rigorous about not using a phone when I drive and if I'm falling asleep I pull off the road and close my eyes for 10 minutes.  I've seen the aftermath of too many car accidents to take any dumb chances.  Still, I was shook up for a day or two.  I paid REAL close attention to my driving, I'll tell you that, until I began to drift back into my typical lazy habits.  That could have gone another way.

Glad to be alive and in one piece this fine Saturday morning.

An Ionosphere Dichotomy

As I was dealing with the trip emotional hangover and the Amazing Elevating Bicyclist emotional hangover I continued to meditate each day.  I'll tell you this - it's a lot more fun meditating when everything's going well.  It's a lot easier sitting with your thoughts when those thoughts are pleasant and happy.  But when I'm upset about something it really sucks sitting there feeling those feelings, especially since one of my goals in life is to quit running away from my feelings.  I used to try to make bad things go away as long as "used to" means "still."  Now I try to take a look at them dispassionately, not dividing them into categories of good or bad, only recognizing them as feelings.

I don't like feeling crappy.  I like feeling good.  That doesn't make me different from most people but it sure hinders my spiritual development, and I've sure taken this tendency way up into the ionosphere.  Somewhere in our literature is the suggestion that we stop running from pain as if it's the plague - it's a normal part of life, just like death, and I'm going to be one unhappy SOB if I think I can get out of here without feeling my fair share.

The good news about being sober is that you get to feel your feelings again.  The bad news is that you get to feel your feelings again.  This is called a contradiction.  Maybe a dichotomy.  A separation or division of one thing into two things containing apparently incompatible or incomprehensible principles.

Hybrid

Hybrid:  Something of a mixed origin or composition.

SuperK and I bought bikes a few months back.   I spent a lot of time on a road bike back in The Old Town in the day, hunched over the handlebars, racing imaginary people who weren't actually there, eventually putting enough of a hurting on my back and my knees and my wrists that I had to give up the sport.  This time around I bought a hybrid bike which means I don’t know what it means.  In my mind a hybrid bike would be part bike part hovercraft but this particular vehicle is supposed to stay on the ground and doesn't have any engines or wings or anything.  I sit a lot more upright on the hybrid which is easier on my back although I admit I look ridiculous – I’m tall as it is and the bike has to be pretty tall itself so my knees aren't dragging on the ground so I look like I’m riding a bike on stilts or one of those 10 feet tall unicycles.

So SuperK and I are tooling along when I’m startled by a car approaching on my right.  I reach down and slam on the brakes which was not the right thing to do.  Putting on the brakes would probably have been OK but the slamming of them became problematic in a hell of a hurry.  Apparently I have pretty good brakes because the bike stopped like right now, my momentum and high center of gravity causing the back wheel to come suddenly and alarmingly off the ground while the front wheel pretty much stayed put, leaving me in the position of looking like I was some kind of demonic unicyclist attempting to burrow into the earth.  The rear tire was way up in the air and I was looking straight down at the asphalt.

“Uh-oh,” I thought.  "This doesn't look right."

It really is true that when you get in those situations threatening serious bodily harm that your brain kicks into an odd slo-motion-ey state.   It was almost as if I was thoughtfully pondering the possible outcomes one by one.  Luckily or skillfully or something the back wheel re-entered earth’s atmosphere with a bang; I did not go over the handlebars onto my face or my head; and I managed to make a controlled landing on my right side.  It wasn't especially pleasant, mind you, but it wasn't catastrophic.  I banged up my right knee and the bike’s rear wheel but didn't break anything valuable or that couldn't be fixed.

For the next couple of days I felt depressed, as if I had done something wrong.  Wrong as in bad or evil or incompetent.  I had made a mistake, as I do each and every day, except this one had the potential to have a more serious outcome.  I’m still dealing with the emotional hangover.  I’m trying to think good thoughts: I could have messed up my pretty face or I could have hurt my beautiful face or . . .  well, you get the point.  The same thing happens to me when I get sick - I get depressed because I think I've failed somehow.

I pray each day that my thoughts are free from self-pity, worry, remorse, and self-seeking motives.  Sometimes I really have to work hard at wrenching my thinking out of the negative and into the positive.  Is it really true that there are people out there who start off each day with a sunny outlook?  

If that's true it would be very, very freaky.

Judge Harm

Harm:  That which causes injury, damage, or loss.

One of our Steps: "Made direct amends to such people (those we have harmed is the implication from the Step directly proceeding) wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others."  In the detailed explanation of this Step we find this caution: "It does not lighten our burden when we recklessly make the crosses of others heavier."

I get this.  I'm so eager to feel better myself that I don't care how my behavior might harm someone else.  If there's a Step that requires some counsel from a good sponsor it's this Step.  Please, please don't go rushing into the amends process without talking to someone wiser than you.  These people weren't hard for me to find - I could pretty much tap the first person I saw on the shoulder and get some advice that made more sense than the pablum I was spooning into my own personal hat.

And from the Precepts of Social Discipline:
"Ahimsa: Non-violence.  Not harming other people or other sentient beings.  Not harming oneself.  Tolerance even for that which we dislike (Ed. Note: Ack.  Gack.)  Not speaking that which, even though truthful, would injure others."

Spirituality is spirituality.  It's not a new concept and it's not a particularly clever concept.  I mean, really, do you have to pick up a book or go to a building to listen to someone preach to figure out that it's a good idea to be nice to other people?  One of the reasons our Fellowship has thrived is because we do a very good job trying to follow some very basic advice without wrapping it up with any formal wrapping paper.