Will You Still Love Me? When I'm 64?

 One of my life themes is this: Once I hit 65 I decided I could do whatever the fuck wanted.  SuperK points out that this has pretty much been my modus operandi for my entire life but then again she does a great job at pointing out my defects, foibles, and deficiencies, of which there are legion.  Another one of my themes in life has been complaining about the aging process.  This has always annoyed SuperK.  I blame my mama who was worried about The Nursing Home her whole life.  I never heard my grandparents complain about their health ever.

I think what I fear subconsciously is my own demise.  Indications of my own mortality are unwanted reminder of my own mortality.  On the one hand I'd like to live forever.  On the other hand I would not have made it to the ripe old age of 66 if I had continued drugging and drinking at the pace that I had set in my teens.  The old cosmic joke:  Fate or God or whoever is running the universe appears to have said: "I will give you dominion over all other forms of life.  BUT you will be the only species able to contemplate your death."  And the new cosmic joke is that man's life span has been steadily increasing but the additional years are tacked on at the end.  

Sometimes it seems that most older people are preoccupied with self-centered complaints.  Part of this is the normal pissed reaction that you'd expect from people who are feeling the aches and pains of aging more and more and part is an irritated reaction to feeling more and more invisible - we're ignored in stores by salespeople and don't see a lot of favorable reflections of themselves in popular culture.  There aren't a lot of TV shows or movies that feature wrinkling, sagging, farting, slow-moving dudes and dudettes.  The Elders of the village used to be the trusted sources of wisdom and experience - now we're not always treated as if we have anything useful to say.  Thank God for The Program - at least there the other members sort of have to pay attention to us old folks or at least pretend to.

I am of the opinion that the old have a duty to suffer the slings and arrows of aging with as much grace and determination as we can muster and avoid inflicting our discomforts on those who love us.  With a dignity that eschews self-pity.  I like being in A.A. with people my age.  We laugh about falling apart slowly but we're laughing and we're still moving.  This good humor and interest in others that we try to maintain even as the curtain closes is our attempt to fulfill our obligations to those that survive us.  I'm grateful for the gift of life that I have, undeservedly so, been given and have enjoyed for so long.

Anonymity

 Anonymity:  (You know what?  These definitions suck.  They accurately portray the concept that no name is known or given alright but don't give much weight to the idea that anonymity encourages humility so - fuck it - I'm not going to write anything down.)

More deep thinking on anonymity . . . 

In Bill W's seminal article on our spiritual principle he lists four reasons for our deep respect for anonymity:

1.  "It encourages alcoholics and the families of alcoholics to approach us for help."  While the concept of addiction and alcoholism is more widely accepted today than fifty years ago there is still a lot of stigma attached to it in some quarters where it's seen as a moral feeling or personal weakness.

So we're protecting the individual alcoholic.

2.  "It prevents our founders or leaders, so-called, from becoming household names who might at any time get drunk and give A.A. a black eye."

So we're protecting the Fellowship as a whole.

3.  "Almost every newspaper reporter is impressed when he realizes that here is a group of people who care nothing for personal gain."

So we're making sure that people who report on what's going on in the world have a good opinion of what we're trying to do.

4.  "John Q. Public is even more interested in our way of life.  Weary of pressure selling, spectacular promotion, and shouting public characters he is refreshed by our quietness, modesty, and anonymity.  It may be that he feels a great spiritual power is being generated on this account - that something new has come into his life."

So here is that spiritual principle in the flesh.  We are not calling attention to ourselves and many people find this enchanting.

More Fucking Honesty

Honesty:  Uprightness of character and action; it implies a refusal to lie, steal, or deceive in any way. 

Another word I've looked up over and over . . . And over and over I'm reminded that one is not being honest when someone else believes something that isn't true.  I don't get a pass for applying mental gymnastics to bend my words so that the person believes a falsehood even though - technically - no lying words have passed my lips.  There are no get out of jail free cards here.  I'm telling the truth or I'm not.

I've chosen to travel on the path of recovery.  Because of this, there are certain requirements necessary for my growth and learning.  One of them is honesty with myself and with others.  If I'm not honest with others, I'll suffer because the truth will come out.  If I'm not honest with myself it's going to hinder my ability to grow closer to others.  Honesty with others builds trust, trust builds love, and love makes life so much better.

I was moved to look up the definition again as the result of a situation at my Home Group.  As I've mentioned ad infinitum we have an on-going struggle with some homeless, mentally-ill people coming for the free coffee and staying for the free coffee while taking a break from the coffee to splash around in the bathroom before going for more coffee and touching all of the cookies in the cookie bin.  I'm from the East and the Midwest where the techniques for dealing with these people are a lot more linear and a lot less accommodating; moreover, personally I find their presence very distracting.  I have trouble paying attention to the readings when some dude has just had a loud shouting match with an imaginary rival who he thinks is sitting in the corner.  On two subsequent days I drove to the meeting in a great mood but was so annoyed by these antics that I got up and left shortly after the meeting began.  This behavior was noticeable.  The second time I slipped out I mimed to one man that I had a dentist appointment and I whispered to a second the same thing.  In my defence it wasn't appropriate for me to stop and give a detailed explanation as to why I was leaving but I still didn't tell the truth.  I wasn't trying to harm anyone and I was trying to be respectful to the flow of the meeting but . . . 

I need to make an amends to these two men.  I'm not worried about this.  They'll both take this as a minor incident and profess support.  For me, I have to hew to the reminder found on the flip side of our A.A. coins: To Thine Own Self Be True.  If I'm uncomfortable with how I'm behaving I don't have to clear this behavior with anyone else.  It's not for me.

OK - Who Here Despises Me?

 "I never make the mistake of arguing with people for whose opinions I have no respect."  Edward Gibbon

No matter how convincing I am or how much I argue there are some people whose opinion I will never be able to change.  Fair enough.  But the question is this: Why do I give a shit?  Usually the people I argue with - sometimes in person but most of the time in my own head, by myself, talking away, gesticulating wildly - are people who I don't like or don't care that much about.  Why I spend time doing this is a mystery even to me.

Do I respect these people?  Would a change in their opinion benefit me?  Are they generally interested in my best welfare?  Sometimes I struggle to change the opinion of those who have never supported me, rather than talking with those who have always been there for me.  To distinguish between the two is the difference between disapproval and tension, and love and acceptance.

One of my favorite Seinfeld episodes revolves around George questioning Jerry about his girlfriend,  who loathes George. 

"So she doesn't like me?"

"No."

"She said that?"

"Yes."

"She told you she doesn't like me?"

"Yes."

"What were her exact words?"

"I.  Don't. Like. Him!"

"Jerry, she hates me so much I find her irresistible."

Why do we do this to ourselves?  It's hilarious.  I have struggled with this over the years.  I am drawn like a moth to a blowtorch to people I don't like very much . . . and that's a HUGE fucking  list, I gotta tell ya'.  I'm fascinated by the amount of contempt I can hork up.  I'm exaggerating a bit here but I really spend more time in my head arguing with people who aren't a big part of my life than I do actually talking to those who love me.  

Happily, in the last year or so I've experienced a great release from this type of thinking.  I want to point out that I'm sober nearly 36 years and I've just now gotten to a place where I feel this freedom.  Part of my challenge is that I try to stay in touch with a lot of people - too many people, really - and then I get frustrated when the effort isn't reciprocated in kind.  This is hardly fair - people are busy and people don't have the interest or the time to participate in what is my obsession.  

Let 'em go, let 'em go, let 'em go. 

Principles and Personalities

Principle:  A fundamental assumption or guiding belief; moral rule or aspect.

Personality:  Charisma, or qualities that make a person stand out from a crowd. 

Bill W has this to say about anonymity in an article he wrote in 1946:  "Subtly but powerfully it reminds us that we are always to place principles before personalities; that we have renounced personal glorification in public; that our movement not only preaches but actually practices a true humility."  The definitions are interesting, no?  I'm not to strive to stand out, to be special, but rather to hew to a set of moral beliefs.  It makes the phrase "principles before personalities" really sing, really resonate.  I've typed in the definition of humility so many times I can't do it again but the jist is not that we think we're not worth anything at all but rather that we don't think our worth exceeds that of others.  Not a piece of shit and not God's gift to mankind; just a sheep, just a wildebeest in the middle of everything.

In the first forward of the book Alcoholics Anonymous the principle of anonymity is mentioned only three times: "Being mostly business or professional folk some of us could not carry on our occupations if known"; "when writing or speaking publicly about alcoholism, we urge each of our Fellowship to omit his personal name, designating himself instead as a member of A.A."; and "very earnestly we ask the press also to observe this request for otherwise we shall be greatly handicapped."

I laugh at my long-held belief that anonymity is about protecting myself.  I think that this is important as you see in Bill's writing; I was very careful about protecting my personal anonymity when I was working because even today a lot of people see addiction as a moral failing or a lack of self-control.  When I see an A.A. member in public with someone I don't know I try to catch their eye before approaching them to see if I can pick up a subtle cue as to the wisdom of trying to explain how we know each other in front of someone who may be unaware of the A.A. membership.  But I have to remember that the real guiding spiritual principle behind anonymity is that I need to quit thinking of myself as so transcendently special.  It just ain't so.

Die? Or recover? Hmmm.

Continuing in this general Traditions vein here are some of Bill W's thoughts from 1947 about the fact that there is no central authority in Alcoholics Anonymous (and let's remember that in our early years we were all over the place with rules and regulations and processes and procedures - it was the wild west of A.A.):

"It is not strange that the only real authority to be found in A.A. is that of spiritual principle.  It is never personal authority.  Still, it is a fact that most of us do follow, in our personal lives, the Twelve Suggested Steps to recovery.  We prefer recovery to death.  Then, little by little, we perceive the spiritual basis of life is the best.  We conform because we want to."

First of all, isn't it great that alcoholics make the decision between dying and recovering some kind of close horse race?  That is SO great.  I can't emphasize enough how important the idea that punishment in my personal life comes from a lack of spirituality and not from a central authority.  Can you imagine this set-up in your work life?  You fuck off at work and your boss lets you be, believing that you'll come around when you see the wisdom of the system the company has set up.  And trust me, I have a lot of personal experience in this technique and it is not a workable technique if you want to stay employed.

Some more stuff about what inevitably befalls anyone who tries to take charge (including - especially - Bill W. himself) . . . 

"Some A.A. groups elect their leaders.  but even with such a mandate each leader soon discovers that while he can always guide by example or persuasion he can never boss, else at election time he may find himself passed by.  After struggling for a few years to run the A.A. movement I had to give it up  - it simply didn't work.  Heavy-handed assertion of my personal  authority always created confusion and resistance.  If I took sides in a controversy, I was joyfully quoted by some, while others murmured, "And just who does this dictator think he is?"  If I sharply  criticized, I usually got double criticism on the return bounce.  Personal power always failed.

"

Defiant Brats!

 I love this paragraph from Tradition Nine where we're reminded that Alcoholics Anonymous ought never be organized:

"We recognize that alcoholics can't be dictated to - individually or collectively.  At this juncture, we can hear a churchman exclaim, "They are making disobedience a virtue!" (Church people like people to get in line and follow rules - their rules - and alcoholics are committed to not being dictated to.)  He is joined by a psychiatrist who says, "Defiant brats!  They won't grow up and conform to social usage!"  (This line always gets a laugh in a meeting - we're pretty sure we're still defiant brats . . . and proud of it.)  The man in the street says, "I don't understand it.  They must be nuts"!  (Another laugh from the bratty, nutty crowd.)  But all these observers have overlooked something unique in Alcoholics Anonymous.  Unless each A.A. member follows to the best of his ability our suggested Twelve Steps to recovery, he almost certainly signs his own death warrant.  His drunkenness and dissolution are not penalties inflicted by people in authority; they result from his personal disobedience to spiritual principles."

I love this belief that our punishment comes not from alcohol but from our lack of a spiritual essence.  I am/was always looking for someone to blame for the shitty outcomes that sometimes/all the time were tormenting me.  No one in A.A. can punish me or has the authority to punish me - I'm being disciplined by my adherence to carnal desires.  When I was a drunken asshole it wasn't because I wasn't following any prescribed A.A. rules.  No, sir, I was suffering because I wasn't following any good, true, kind instincts that were in me.