This is SO Vexing

Frustrate:  To disappoint or defeat; to vex by depriving of something expected or desired.

I have a dear old friend that I've kept in touch with over the years, often having philosophical talks about life and The Big Picture.  I've tried to pass along the tenor of the stuff I've learned in The Program without getting too preachy or self-righteous.  This dude is often frustrated by life - aren't we all? - but doesn't have the spiritual tools to deal with these frustrations like we Program People do.  He's a very disciplined man in most aspects but still, I can't adequately convey the message that spiritual development is all about the practice. There are so many things that don't display progress when I look at them short-term - the very same things I don't want to practice because I can't see the easy progress.  "This is a waste of time," I mutter.

Here is our latest exchange:

Friend: Money is about keeping score, at this point, in the lives of big-time business people, isn't it?  And the more the money, the more the focus.  Like the difference between a penny-ante poker game and the World Series of Poker.  The same with power.  In my career, I got somewhat proximate to Big Power... never to Big Money.  I was very cautious around it.  It seemed to me that it could burn you to a crisp if you miscalculated or misunderstood it.  But there was no denying its fascination.  And, I also learned, that there is nothing easier than appearing modest if you have power or are riding in the sidecar with power.  What is harder is to show dignity and generosity when you are in a lesser position, a position of supplicant, a position of underling.   

I don't think there was anything in the way of my spiritual development when I was working full-tilt.  I have found that retirement offers no opportunity for spiritual development that wasn't available to me when I was working full-tilt.  The one thing that retirement has definitely offered to me, in terms of spiritual development, is unsought, unasked-for, unwanted challenges of trauma, disappointment and confusion.  I am well read enough, of course, to know that many philosophers and Bodhisattvas would respond to that by saying: "Oh, how excellent!  Exactly the signs that your retirement is going to bear fruit."

Me: Ah, yes, the frustration of life.  As I'm sure I mentioned many times before I think The Program has taken the simple, ancient spiritual principles of "Seek god - Serve others" and made them applicable to drunks.  It's certainly not new stuff.  So I ask myself at the end of each day: "Have I attempted to grow spiritually - in a way that makes sense to me - and have I sought to be someone who is thinking about others instead of obsessing about myself?"  I set the bar low - a crappy session of meditation is a good effort.  Did I smile at the clerk at the gas station?  Did I say something welcoming to someone at a meeting that I may or may not like?  Did I make dinner for my wife even though I didn't want to?  Am I putting myself in a position to make life better for others rather than thinking about how they, the world, the cosmos, could make life better for ME?  It's hard, of course - we're all self-centered by nature and looking to satisfy our own instinctual demands.  Each minute that I spend trying to get what I want and trying to avoid what I don't want is a minute that I'm overlooking all the good in my life and failing to appreciate how my difficulties are leading me to someplace I need to be, even though I may not want to be there.  The guys I hung with when I was getting sober would counter my never-ending stream of bitching about the unfairness of life by saying: "You've been running the show for 30 years - how's that been working out for you?"

I probably have shared this section from one of our main books, one that really resonated with me, that put a practical bent on the ancient spiritual principles: "The chief activator of our defects has been self-centered fear - primarily fear that we already possessed or would fail to get something we demanded.  Living upon a basis of unsatisfied demands, we were in a state of continual disturbance and frustration.  Therefore, no peace was to be had unless we could find a means of reducing these demands.  The difference between a demand and a simple request is plain to anyone."

I do love these books.

Sullen Seaweed

Sullen:  Having a brooding, ill temper; sulky; gloomy; dismal; foreboding.

So my Vacation City relative - a lovely person - who drives me bonkers about 50% of the time is back in The Old City visiting my family - a group of delightful folks - who drive me absolutely bat-shit about 78% of the time and every one is getting along like they're family.  These folks are all kind of chatty, sentimental, up-beatish folks except when they're telling me I'm going to die from Ebola or a mountain lion is going to eat me or someone got mugged and died in the city I'm going to visit soon.  But they like to do the same things so they get along very well.  Instead, they get me some of the time - an introverted, mildly depressed, somewhat sullen outlier.  Is anyone surprised that the visits don't go that well when I'm involved.

Funny, that.  This is why I don't pretend, ever, that the problems exists anywhere but with me?

Damn Steps, Anyway

Principles: Fundamental assumptions.

SuperK pointed out one of my many shortcomings yesterday, and it's a particularly glaring shortcoming.  As a general rule I keep my mouth clamped shut during these episodes, rare as they are.  A good rule of thumb for me is this: "If someone thinks that you're a fool, open your mouth and remove all doubt."  As another general rule I find that when someone that knows me well and loves me a lot and has my best interests at heart finds something in me lacking that there's usually an element of truth in it, often a big, honking element.  But because I don't like to be criticized and I don't like it when someone ferrets out one of my shortcomings I tend to want to react, and the problem with that is I overreact.  Thus: speaketh not until one has digested the message.

I was asked to lead my 7AM meeting today.  Ain't it amazing that we're asked to share an optimistic message of hope and redemption just when we need to think of things in a hopeful and redemptive fashion?  My early days of sobriety were spent in a city that offered Step meetings, an occasional Big Book meeting, and not one goddam discussion meeting.  I'll tell you what - it made me figure out how to interpret the dreadful minutiae of my sorry existence in a new light.  Nothing like having a self-centered money, sex, and/or power crisis and showing up some place where people are talking about The Steps.

When I lead a meeting I almost always pull out one of our two main texts.  I read from the 8th Step - the section where it talks about my tendency, when confronted on bad behavior, to try to turn the tables around and point out the bad behavior, real or imagined, of my confronter or, just as slimy, to protest that I haven't behaved badly at all, despite shiploads of evidence to the contrary.

Then I read from the 10th Step - the part where it . . . well, here it is: "Our first objective will be the development of self-restraint.  This carries a top priority rating.  (Ed. Note: our founder has a tendency to say the same thing over and over because that's the only way to get anything through our thick skulls.  To wit: the first objective by definition carries a top priority rating - that's why it's first.  It would be 10th if it wasn't a top priority).  When we speak or act hastily or rashly, the ability to be fair-minded and tolerant evaporates on the spot.  Nothing pays off like restraint of tongue and pen.  We must avoid quick-tempered criticism and furious power-driven argument.  The same goes for sulking or silent scorn."

I'll tell you what again - having to work these Steps and practice these Principles can be one huge pain in the ass.

This isn't a huge conflict and it isn't an especially novel one so we'll get through it fine.  Te lesson I've learned is to stay low and tread lightly until the irritation I feel has ebbed and waned somewhat.  I'm an idiot most of the time but I'm an absolute psycho when I'm pissed. 

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.