If:  Expressing a supposition, condition, or hypothesis; on condition that; in case that; supposing that: as if I come, I'll see him.


It's not about me.


If it's not about me, then who is it about?  You?  I don't think so.  If it's not me then it sure as shit isn't about you.  It isn't about anyone else within a hundred miles of me, either.  It may be about someone a continent over but I even have my doubts about that.


If it's not about me . . . and that's a huge If . . . then it's not about anybody.


In case that it's not me.  I like that turn of a phrase better.  It sounds like the only way it can't be about me is on the condition that something terrible would then happen.  In case of fire, break glass, that sort of thing.  In case we have a nuclear attack, put your head between your knees and kiss your ass goodbye.


Anyway, semantics aside, the point is that I need to spend my day today making sure that everyone else has fun.  It's not to make sure that I have fun because when I do that then I trample all over everyone else's fun and I have very little fun myself.


I tried a new meeting this morning.  It's a pretty big meeting so I didn't get to talk which is to the group's detriment because clearly I'm the smartest, funniest, most insightful and humblest person there and everyone's life would be enriched immeasurably if I spoke, at length.  In the past I'd get a big honking resentment about this but today I know what to do.  I made a beeline for the two guys who indicated that they had under 30 days of sobriety.  That's who I need to talk to because they are so completely not interested in me that it does me a lot of good.

Ball o' Confusion!

Contradict:  To be contrary; go against.


I am a perfectionist.  I get a lot done and I do much of it well but I'm never satisfied with anything once I'm finished.  I am a man who tends to the dark side.  I'm not especially uncomfortable there, either.  It can be an oddly satisfying place to hang out with all of the doom and fog and heavy metal chords.  I have a lot of energy; this is a politically correct way to say that I'm restless.  We're not going to discuss irritability and dis-contentedness at the moment.  I'm self-absorbed but I listen well.  I have a lot of empathy for other people - not sympathy, which is a condescending word - but empathy.  I feel their pain even though I don't care what happens to them unless it then affects me in a way that I don't like. THEN I care.  I'm pretty calm until I start throwing punches and hurling  invective.  I believe in a god or series of gods; unfortunately, I think that many of them are me.  I exercise and read and think overly much about myself, worrying that I won't get what I want or that I'll lose something that I already have.  I don't worry much about the future where terrible things are going to happen to me and those that I love;  I'm at peace with the past as I lay awake at night and worry about all of the bridges that I burned behind me, returning occasionally to bomb and dynamite the rubble.  I'm happy and gloomy and positive and negative.


Ball o' confusion!  That's what the world is today!

Seriously.

Staying in the moment - simple and surprisingly difficult and one of the keys to my serenity.  And also way up on there on my list is trying to generate a little $#!! gratitude for all of the amazing blessings that I have.  I'm not sure why this is so difficult for me and most of the drunks I know.  Hell, it's difficult for a lot of people, drunks or not.  Life can be scary and difficult and it's hard to get down with the good stuff.  But seriously, c'mon.


It makes me laugh to think that I have to make a Gratitude List every morning and say it out loud.  Dude, seriously?  You get up in the morning and you can't naturally work up any gratitude as you sit right in the middle of an unbelievable embarrassment of riches?


Dude.

Not Good Yet

Tolerate:  To recognize and respect (other's beliefs, practices, etc.) without necessarily agreeing or sympathizing.


I'm in a meeting this morning and the guy who chaired Did It Wrong.  This is inexcusable.  This is a capital offence.  Powerful empires have been overthrown for less.  The published format is for the chairperson to speak for about 5 minutes to establish an alcoholism related topic.  We actually read that before we start the meeting.  It's written down in ink and we read it out loud so obviously what happened today has happened before; namely, the dreaded mini-lead.  This is bad enough when the speaker has a significant chunk of time allotted in which to speak, but when time is short it becomes quite difficult.  Who thinks that they can tell their life story and how they got sober AND what their recovery means to them in 5 minutes?  This guy and me, apparently.


Anyway, after about 20 minutes I picked up my coat and left, like the rude asshole that I am.  I was going to begin screaming if I had to listen to him say one more word.  I didn't think the situation through very well, however, because SuperK stayed in the room like the polite human being that she is, and she had the keys to our apartment.  After about 15 more minutes of wandering around the deserted clubhouse - this was a 6:30 AM meeting - I went back upstairs, figuring I could listen to other people share in the aftermath of the mini-lead and get in half a meeting at least.  As I cracked open the door to the room, I could hear that the guy was still speaking.  I scuttled away, like a cockroach.


While my character defects aren't quite as insistent as they used to be they're clearly still active.  I was impatient and intolerant and angry, and this was in a meeting where I go to be peaceful and recover.  My behavior didn't bode well for any upcoming interactions I might have with irritating Earth People.


When I lived in The Old City there was a woman there who drove me to distraction.  I ran into her every week at this big meeting that I attended, and she felt the need to share every time.  When she started to talk I invariably got up and went to the bathroom, not because I had to pee, but because I did not want to her this woman talk.  I stood in there until I could hear that someone else had begun to share.  This woman, in all honesty, irritated a lot of other members, but I NEVER ran into anyone else in the bathroom that didn't have to pee.  Apparently, I was more intolerant, impatient, and angry that anyone else who attended this large meeting.


This is not making me sound too good.

A Good Game Plan

Moderation:  A moderating, or bringing within bounds; avoidance of excesses or extremes; absence of violence; calmness.  


How about this for a game plan for today . . . 


I'm not a piece of garbage and I'm not the Supreme Ruler of the Universe, although from time to time, with disturbing frequency, I think that I'm one or the other.  One of my many, many pejorative nicknames over the years has been All or Nothing Seaweed.  Not that any one ever called me that; it's more like a nickname that I just made up.  I've been hoping for a nickname more along the lines of Serenity Seaweed or Soothing Serenity Seaweed but I'm not having much luck in that department, seeing as I'm not often serene and am rarely soothing.


I try to think of myself as important but not indispensable.  I'm a tiny, tiny part of a large, complicated piece of machinery and my goal should be to help the machine run smoothly today.  I do my job, helping the other tiny but important parts to do theirs.  I try to make myself better and this seems to make some of the other parts better, too.


I believe that every character defect that I possessed when I came into The Program I still have today.  The good thing is that the heat under most of them has been turned down; they're still on the stove but they're only simmering.   Every now and then I turn the heat up to Max Power and scald a pot or two to keep things interesting but mostly they're lurking in the background, like evil little cousins.


I don't know what I'm talking about, either.

Old Man Seaweed

Meditate:  A word that suggests quiet, deep meditation.


Sometimes I get up and the river is just flowing on by.  It hasn't vanished, leaving a rocky arroyo in its place, and me all dusty and wild-eyed, sitting on a stone; and it's not a rushing torrent sweeping my birch wood canoe over the rocks.  I heard a woman share about going to a favorite spot in the mountains from time to time and sitting by a stream.  She notes which way the stream is flowing.  Up until now it has been flowing from left to right, heading downhill.  If it's still flowing from left to right, heading downhill, the next time she visits, she's comforted.  When the stream begins to go the other way then she'll know that something's up.  Until then, she assumes that the world's still operating normally.  Normal can be reassuring.


I believe that my meditation helps me out here.  Sometimes my mind is moving at the same speed as the river.  Usually, however,  I'm either exposed to the blasting sunshine in my beached canoe, stranded high and dry, or hanging onto the gunwales as the thing rockets downstream, out of control.  


I don't find that I'm often caught up in the tragedies and mistakes of the past anymore; I'm not afraid to look at who I was and what happened.  I've worked through that stuff; I'm done with it.  I'm not as good at staying out of the future but I'm a good sight better than I used to be.  I'm not often quaking with terror, imagining all of the bad stuff that could happen, having learned by experience that what I think is bad often leads to something good, but I confess to worrying over much that I'm not going to get what I want.  And I find that my connections to the physical stuff of the world: people, things, stuff, is on a constant ebb.  I like it but I'm not owned by it.  


This is why I meditate.  Not because I have a natural aptitude for it, I'll tell you that much.


Seaweed in the river.

Fun In The Shade

Part of the trouble I have with all of these fun people having so much fun is that it aggravates my expectation machine, suggesting that there are tons of ways that everyone else has fun and that I'm not doing any of them.  I sit at the coffee shop in the sun and drink a cup of coffee and watch people walk by, judging most of them harshly.  I do that a lot or whenever the sun shines.  On cloudy days I sit in the shade.  I also read the paper and write about how horrible it is that life is screwing me so completely.  While I consider these very enjoyable, a pleasant past time, I get the impression that many people consider this non-productive fun, and there's nothing that I've found to be more productive than imagining all the bad things that come to people's minds when they're thinking about me.


I had fun today.  Not a LOT of fun but I had fun.