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.

Ah-Non-Uh-Muss

From our literature:
"The spiritual substance of anonymity is sacrifice.  Because our Twelve Traditions repeatedly ask us to give up personal desires for the common good, we realize that the sacrificial spirit - well symbolized by anonymity - is the foundation of them all."

And from Yoga's Precepts of Social Discipline:  
Satya:  Truthfulness.  Note that sometime we may know that our words are literally true, but do not convey what we know to be truthful.  This is a child's game.  Satya means not intending to deceive others in our thoughts, as well as our words and actions.

I never like to hear that I can't bend my words so that I can lie but claim that I'm not lying, technically.  Anyone can just lie.  That's easy.  I'm a spectacular liar, exhibiting a natural ability to lie and combining that with many years of diligent practice.  If I had spent as much time studying as I did lying I'd be an astro-physicist right now, whatever that is.  The real skill comes in feinting and parrying, looking left and going right, and convincing someone that something that isn't true is, in fact, true, all while not letting any technically lying words pass my lying lips.

Think about it - who can do that?

Stevie Seaweed - Please Get Out of the Way

I need to keep working on the "Being of Service" mindset.  And I need to keep in mind the "It's Only Help If Someone Else Wants It" paradigm.  Just because I'm world-renowned for my Fried Snail Souffle doesn't mean that everyone is going to appreciate it when I swing by with some leftovers.  And, most of all, I must be on guard for "Stevie Seaweed - god help us all - thinks he's in control."

Willie shared a story with me this morning where he got everything lined up just where he wanted everything to be lined up, the result being, of course, that he screwed himself to the wall.

Nothing like a drunk getting what he wants.

The point here, if there is indeed a point - no sure thing -  is that, once again, I swung into action on my parents real estate situation and very nearly took a couple of actions that would have helped precisely no one.  Luckily, I've learned that I'm an idiot with the instincts of a bigger idiot so that most of the time I think about doing something but don't do anything, the result being that everything works out OK.  

I think that I know what's going on for what reason, exactly?  

I may have mentioned getting two people involved with my parents' house - two good and trusted friends of many years standing.  As the situation evolved both of these good men steered me toward the other even though I was sure that each of them would be pissed and defensive about the mere presence of the other.  I am making sure through the whole process I'm being very honest and very open about the whole process.  It's scary, this telling the truth, but it usually works out the best in the long run, no big attraction for a short run kind of guy.  I'd much rather lie to make sure I don't experience any discomfort; ironically, though, when I tell the truth I remember that I don't have to remember what I said, 'cause if I said it then it must be the truth.

I think both of these guys, despite some financial interests, have my and my parents best interests at heart.

Still blows me away when this happens.  It is still counter-intuitive for me.

Le Chaperone

I was at a Farmer's Market in Vacation City last week, a glorious opportunity not to be missed in this part of the world.  I had strolled around, buying so much cheap, fresh fruit and vegetables that I had to make two trips to  my car.  The sun was shining, the palm trees were waving, angels may or may not have been singing - it was right out of a Hollywood movie set.  My final task was to buy a ridiculously delicious lunch for my wife and me from a food truck.  If you buy ethnic food from people of that very same ethnicity, people who cook each order after it's placed, people who speak that ethnicity's language better than your own, you're going to eat good.

I was standing there waiting for my food to come up when I was surrounded by a group of developmentally disabled kids and their two chaperones.  One of the kids - maybe even a young woman - was perusing the contents of a tent set up by a vendor of cheap plastic crap.   She held up a novelty headband - one that had Mickey Mouse ears or googly eyes affixed to long, jouncing springs, I didn't really pay attention - and showed it her chaperone.

"$2.50," announced the cheap plastic crap proprietress.

"Isn't that great?" the chaperone said.  "Halloween is coming up.  Maybe we can buy it next week."

I leaned in, trying to be discreet.  Really, I was.

"What if I buy it for her? I whispered.

"Oh, no, that's OK," replied the chaperone, probably wondering what the long-haired creep with a pork pie hat was up to.

"Seriously, I'd like to," I said.

The chaperon announced to her charge what was going down; I passed the two-fifty to the girl; and the booth-ite made a sale.  I beat it the hell out of there.  I really did.  It was such a ridiculously small gesture that I would have been embarrassed by even one more word of thanks.  I mean, this kid was in sorry shape - she wasn't looking at a lot of varied opportunities in her life.  I don't mean to suggest she couldn't be happy, just that she definitely got shortchanged in what most of us consider to be blessings.  Most people - not all, mind you - would look at me and look at her, and choose my circumstances.  

I'm speculating here.  Maybe I've overestimating my appeal to the general public.  I haven't had a lot of people come up to me and compliment me on my circumstances.

The troupe, of course, passed by my car as they left the area.  The girl was clutching a little bag with her headband.  

"Thank you," the chaperone mouthed at me, as I sat in my Very Expensive Car.

I'll leave it up to you to guess who felt better about that whole episode.

Peace

Peace:  A state free of oppressive and unpleasant thoughts and emotions. 

I've had the same sponsor for about 25 years.  My Old City sponsor.  I've made it a point to have a local sponsor wherever I land but I've stayed in touch with this guy continuously for this entire stretch of time, talking to him at least once a week, more if circumstances warrant, and, as you know, circumstances do indeed warrant.  He recently learned that he's pretty sick.  His doctor said 4 to 7 months.  That's pretty sick.  He may have more time than this but it doesn't look likely.

Frankly, I can't imagine my world without this guy.  I can say with no hesitation that there is an intimacy for me in our relationship that is not duplicated with anyone else, even my birth family.  That's The Fellowship - that's what we get in our recovery community.

I spoke to him after I heard the sad news.  He was not feeling sorry for himself and he would not let the conversation linger on his illness.

"So, how are you doing?" he asked.

I felt ridiculous talking about my petty dramas to someone who is looking at very little time left.  Little Westside Jonny said that my sponsor is at peace.  He is ready to go.  He won't fight death tooth and nail.  Sometimes people who aren't at peace with themselves and the world and their god go kicking and screaming, angry and afraid.  Some people quietly get their affairs in order, prepare themselves.  I'm not suggesting that he's throwing in the towel but he isn't going to go to extraordinary measures to prolong the inevitable, either.

"That's exactly what I'd expect from him," SuperK said.

Our Program suggests that we are people who wouldn't ordinarily mix.  It uses the analogy of survivors of a shipwreck who find themselves in the same lifeboat - there are no longer any captains or passengers or maintenance workers.  There are people happy to have found a way out and more than willing to chip in to make sure that everyone survives.  That's The Fellowship.

My sponsor and I could not be more different as people.  We rarely find common ground on controversial issues like politics and religions and social justice.  I mean we aren't even in the same ocean let alone the same lifeboat in these areas, yet we've managed to keep up a strong and productive friendship for all of these years.  I believe that we admire and respect each other.

This is not going to be a pleasant thing for me and it is, as you know, all about me. I think I'm pretty upset but I can never tell right away - I'm not a crier or a moaner, more of an internalizer.  I get depressed, lose my energy.  That's kind of where I am right now and I know that everyone is very interested in how I'm doing because it is, as I've mentioned before, all about me.