May You Be Happy

Courage:  The quality of a confident character not to be afraid or intimidated easily but without being incautious or inconsiderate.

I don't remember why I wanted to look up this word.  Nonetheless, it's a good word.  "Incautious" means reckless.  It's good for me to balance a lack of fear with a healthy fear.  I did a lot of stupid stuff when I was drinking.  Ah, who am I kidding - I do a lot of stupid stuff today, it's just somewhat less stupid.

I've been doing a guided meditation where the theme is to imagine 4 different characters: yourself; someone you know well and love deeply; someone you know by sight but not on an intimate personal level; and someone you really don't like.  I guess "imagine" is the wrong word as it implies believing in something created in your own mind.  I'd say "envision" is a better choice.  I have no interest in creating myself in my own mind unless I can be a rock star.

On a side note SuperK and I went and listened to some blues last night and we hit the dance floor for one song where I found out that I am definitely not going to be able to pirouette around for a two hour set as the lead guitarist for a hard rock band called KonKrete or Master of Disgust.

Spandex complimented me on a recent blog where I explored the meaning of a few different words so now, of course, I'm getting carried away although that might imply that someone is picking me up and carrying me away and good luck with that.

The point of the meditation - before I forget what that I'm talking about - is to consider these visualizations for a bit and then to recite the following affirmations.

May you be happy.
May you be healthy and well.
May you be free from mental and physical suffering.
May you live without fear and have peace in all ways.

Now "may" means expressing a wish and a "wish" is a thing desired or longed for.

Am I being kind to myself and to those I love and to the people who I run into all of the time but don't know well and to the few individuals that are forcing my brain to override my body's basic desire to choke the shit out of some asshole who desperately needs it?

You tell me.

Urban Wictionaryapedia

Some more words that I've looked up so that I may better understand a concept, and then have promptly forgotten many, many times.

Expectation:  The prospect of the future; grounds upon which something excellent is expected to occur; prospect of anything good to come, especially of property or rank.

Yeah, well, there's no baggage with that concept.  Why would I ever be disappointed when I expect the future to offer up something excellent in the areas of stuff or prestige?  I don't know why they didn't add sex so as to cover all of the three instincts that cause me so much trouble.

Acceptance:  A receiving of something offered, with approbation, satisfaction, or acquiescence; especially favorable reception.

Yeah, well, what the hell does that mean and why don't I ever do it?  So the idea is that something is given - no qualification as to whether it's good or crappy - and I receive it favorably.   Good luck with that.

Acquiescence:  To rest satisfied, or apparently satisfied, or to rest without opposition and discontent (usually implying previous opposition or discontent).  

The italics are mine.  I needed to make sure that I understood that acceptance implies that I don't bitch when the shit I didn't like didn't get fixed to my satisfaction or the thing that I wanted - be it money, power, or sex - didn't land magically in my lap.  I get something I'm OK with it.

Linear:  Made in a step by step, logical manner.

Shifting gears here a bit in my pompous wordsmithing I offer up this concept that has come up often in my Grief Group; as in, recovering from loss is not linear, you don't progress on a pre-determined time frame.  I'm impressed with how well some people have gotten along and surprised at how  mired some others are in their grief.

The Labyrinth Is Not A Maze

Labyrinth:  We are all on the path... exactly where we need to be. The labyrinth is a model of that path.

A labyrinth is an ancient symbol that relates to wholeness. It combines the imagery of the circle and the spiral into a meandering but purposeful path. The Labyrinth represents a journey to our own center and back again out into the world.  Labyrinths have long been used as meditation and prayer tools.

A labyrinth is an archetype with which we can have a direct experience.  We can walk it.  It is a metaphor for life's journey.  It is a symbol that creates a sacred space and place and takes us out of our ego to "That Which Is Within."

A labyrinth has only one path. It is unicursal.  (Ed Note: Unicursal is an excellent word).  The way in is the way out.  There are no blind alleys. The path leads you on a circuitous path to the center and out again.

A labyrinth is a right brain task. It involves intuition, creativity, and imagery.  With a maze many choices must be made and an active mind is needed to solve the problem of finding the center.  With a labyrinth there is only one choice to be made.  The choice is to enter or not.  A more passive, receptive mindset is needed.  The choice is whether or not to walk a spiritual path.

At its most basic level the labyrinth is a metaphor for the journey to the center of your deepest self and back out into the world with a broadened understanding of who you are.

There was a labyrinth at the retreat center.  Because I didn't know the purpose of a labyrinth I had never given one a shot.  Contempt prior to investigation, right?

I did a little research on the history of the labyrinth as a prayer and meditation tool - the above definition is a distillation of what I found.  Then I did a little research on suggested techniques for strolling the labyrinth.  Such as . . . 

1. Releasing (Purgation). From the entrance to the center is the path of shedding or "letting go." There is a release and an emptying of worries and concerns.

2. Receiving (Illumination).  At the center there is illumination, insight, clarity, and focus. It is here that you are in a receptive, prayerful, meditative state.

3. Integrating (Union). Empowerment and taking ownership.  The path out is that of becoming grounded and integrating the insight.  It is being energized and making what was received manifest in the world.

So I walked it twice, each trip taking about a half of an hour.  I tried to get rid of those things that are hindering me on the way in and then to open up to new suggestions and ideas on the way out.  (Ed Note: The original text for The Fellowship was called "The Way Out.")

My wish was that I would be able to leave some things there.  Not forget about them but move past them into the present, into the now, to feel as if I've been released from a hold that each of them had on me.  I'm not naive - I don't expect this to be a White Light experience but more a transformation of the educational variety.

I have no idea what I'm doing most of the time.

Har Har de Har

I went to a Men's Retreat this weekend.  I attended a couple of retreats a year in The Old City and found them to be surprisingly helpful.  I'm not too good at joining in or joining groups, preferring to stalk the darkness at the periphery of the campfire to singing round-robin campfire songs.  I went to this retreat a couple of years ago and didn't really care for the dynamic but decided to give it another try as I'm pulling every lever and pushing every button in an attempt to process The Lost Year.

Alas, my instincts were correct and I didn't really care for the dynamic again.  It seemed to be more like a Fellowship camping trip than a spiritual retreat.  There were lots of meetings and lots of bullshit sessions but not much else.  I'd say that fellowship was the theme, not spiritual growth. Despite a ridiculously beautiful setting on a bluff overlooking the ocean I didn't see a single person taking advantage of the solitude to write or meditate or quietly stroll the grounds.  There was often the sound of loud talking and laughter, people bellowing into cell phones, that kind of stuff.  It wasn't unusual for me to have to be chased out to one the more remote benches if I wanted a little peace and quiet.  The guys sharing the room next to mine would come in after the evening session and play videos on their computer - action videos at a high volume.  I actually had to put in foam earplugs to read at the end of the day although, in their defense, they didn't go too late with the movies.  I know I could have gone over and said something and that they would undoubtedly have taken it well but I felt like the outlier and not in the mainstream of the retreat intent.  It would have felt like going over to someone's house for a Super Bowl party and asking them to put on the basketball game.

My original retreats were in a town with a heavy religious influence, something that often annoyed me and served as a target for my snarky observations.  I'll say this - religious people often have a history of quiet reflection and some sense of deep-seated faith.  I ran into people by themselves all the time at the Old City retreats - when there were small groups of people the conversations were quiet, reserved. 

There were a lot of guys at this retreat and most of them seemed to be enjoying themselves - it wasn't a bad retreat, just one that doesn't really interest me.  Which begs the question as to why I went again.  Perhaps I'm not as smart as I think that I am.

30 - 40 - 50 - 60

Thirty hit me hard.  I got sober; I got clean; I quit smoking; I got in shape; I got serious with SuperK.

Forty hit me hard, too.  I didn't like the kind of work I was doing so I got busy and started interviewing for all the different kinds of jobs that sounded good and fun and fulfilling to me, that promised more joy or satisfaction than what I was doing, and I took some classes at the university level.  You know what I found?  That I had it pretty good - the new careers required evening or weekend hours or promised less money - a lot less money - or more schooling - a lot more schooling - or threatened me with relocation.  I was glad I interviewed even though it went nowhere.  I had to know.

Fifty leveled me.  Fifty was the "holy shit personal body things are starting to hurt or break or quit working" revelation.  Moreover, I found that I wasn't able to stretch or exercise my way through the aches and pains like in the past.  Gutting it out turned into injuring something.  And even the shit that didn't hurt wasn't working that well anymore.  I began to get a real sense of my own mortality, that I don't inhabit a perpetual motion machine.  That the machine I do inhabit is going to break, that it's going to give out eventually.  As unbelievable as this sounds I didn't see it coming.

So here comes sixty.  I guess when you see a handful of people who came before you disappear into the gloaming you sense that there really is an end game and shit is going to end.

I mean the average life expectancy of a male in The States is 78 years although to be fair if you make it to 65 then you have a good chance of hanging in there a good while longer.  I would imagine that all the drunks dying early drags down the average.  Then again that's no guarantee that the quality of life is going to be great.

I don't want to sound morbid.  I'm not thinking of death at all and I'm surely not worried about it.  And while these numbers ending in zeroes are just numbers and not anymore significant than the on immediately preceding it or the one that immediately follows, they are markers of sorts and I think I laugh them off completely at my own peril.

Never Bring a Knife to a Gunfight

Compete:  To seek or strive for the same thing, position, or reward for which another is striving.  

More musings on the payment schedule for my bounced check . . . 

Never bring a knife to a gunfight.  The question is this: who is holding the knife here?  I don't feel like I've got a gun on me.

I'm sure I'm going to repeat myself but here's the SuperK Playing A Game story again.  When we were first married my wife - who enjoys playing games - was always badgering me to play a game with her, any game, she didn't care.  I protested and I protested, aware that a game for me was a contest to win, not a leisure activity.  Finally, I relented and we picked up some harmless board game.  I won the first several games - not because I'm smarter or more talented at games than she is but because I was dialed in to the activity while she was chatting and talking and looking around.  Just enjoying the game and the company.  Then she started to get the better of me in one of the rounds.  Seeing almost certain defeat I went into my Bloody Last Stand mode - you know, delaying the defeat as long as possible in the hope that I could pull out a miraculous, Hail Mary finish and walk away with an improbable win.  I'm like one of those suicidal guerrilla organizations that's so entrenched in the jungle that only total annihilation can convince them that the jig is up.

The look on her face when she realized that I was draining every possible ounce of pleasure out of her victory as I possibly could.  It wasn't personal at all - it was victory or it was defeat.

Anyway, do I pay $2.07 or do I pay $30?  Massachusetts Dud has suggested that I pay the full amount less one penny.  I'm seriously considering this technique.

Ghost in the Machine

Here's the update on the people who wouldn't remove a 100% surcharge penalty thing on a bill that my father owed . . . 

The facts:
The bill is legitimate.
I stupidly bounced a check in an honest attempt to discharge this debt.
There is probably something in the 47 page standard legal boilerplate that my father agreed to when he arrived at the emergency room unconscious that permits the pricks administering the bill to tack on 100% surcharges.
I called the pricks administering the bill - explained that my father had died, I was sorry about the bounced check but that things were a little unsettled, I'd be happy to pay the bill, would you remove the 100% surcharge.
The pricks declined to remove the surcharge which is their right.

As you can see the facts are lined up against me.  Is it fair?  Is it kind?  Or understanding?  

No, no, and no.

Here is my game plan.  I will pay the surcharge . . . probably.  I will send in small, odd, random amounts each month by check.  I think I'll start with $2.09.  I may go as high as $4.17 but probably not.  I'll choose the amount to send in each month at a time of my choosing.  I like a dollar amount and then a zero and then another number.  Like: $3.01 or $1.01.

I realize that this will cost me far more in postage and envelope cost than if I just paid the amount but I want to make it absolutely as painful for these pricks as possible.  I want to fuck with their system.  I want someone to have to open the envelope and process the check.  I can't imagine that they are able to process a check for less than $2.09.  I want it to cost them like $100 to collect this debt.

As you can see I have a ways to go.