Aw shucks, I'm going to live after all...

I've been sick (head cold) for the past 3 days.

I have lots of experience around sickly, heroic people.  People who rise above their challenges and accomplish amazing things while presented with ill health or tough life circumstances.  While I was laying around this past weekend, I watched the program Temple Grandin, a semi-documentary movie of Temple Grandin on HBO.  It truly is amazing what people can accomplish when so many odds are stacked against them.

I'm not those people.

I get a head cold and it serves as an excuse for an extremely self-centered me to focus more on me - How am I feeling?  Am I going to die?  Can I get something out of this?  Can I disappear and nobody notice? Am I going to live?

Way to much of me for me.

The good news is that I feel better today.

The even better news is that, so far, I've thought about at least 2-3 people besides myself today.

God is good.

...and AA works.

Haven...

I spent some of the weekend at a local conference with a theme of "Haven at last."  Comes from our Big Book:

"Many a man, yet dazed from his hospital experience, has stepped over the threshold of that home into freedom. Many an alcoholic who entered there came away with an answer. He succumbed to that gay crowd inside, who laughed at their own misfortunes and understood his. Impressed by those who visited him at the hospital, he capitulated entirely when, later, in an upper room of this house, he heard the story of some man whose experience closely tallied with his own. The expression on the faces of the women, that indefinable something in the eyes of the men, the stimulating and electric atmosphere of the place, conspired to let him know that here was haven at last." BB - pp. 160

 I just love that....

Solution, the...

In a comment left on yesterday's article, dAAve posted a comment to the effect of "Solutions?".  This was interesting to me in that I thought I was actually representing a solution when I wrote it.  I could see where it would be seen that I was simply griping about living in the selfishness and self-pity and, well, self.

I'm one of those rare folk who truly see the nobility of Sisyphus - as the rock rolls back down the hill, I really am grateful for the purpose, direction, strength and grace that I have to roll that rock back up again.  Where others see futility, I see a heroic effort and an answer to a life that has just always been beyond me.  My hope today is not only that I will get a huge income and fancy toys.  My (sometimes successful) pursuit of money and material goods has all but ruined me, drunk and sober.

What this life is about for me, today, is that I can be true to my task.  Again, carefully hidden in our Big Book are the directions:

"... We are not cured of alcoholism. What we really have is a daily reprieve contingent on the maintenance of our spiritual condition. Every day is a day when we must carry the vision of God's will into all of our activities. 'How can I best serve Thee--Thy will (not mine) be done.' These are thoughts which must go with us constantly. We can exercise our will power along this line all we wish. It is the proper use of the will." BB - pp. 85

So, what I understand for today is that I get to apply my will to learning how to serve God.  How can I be useful?  What can I contribute?  Where can I offer love and tolerance?

On a practical basis, this gets worked out in some queer ways (sorry guys - you know what I mean ;-) ).  Yesterday, I spent $175 that I don't have on some computer equipment that will upgrade my tools/infrastructure so that I can make some progress in developing some software that I've committed to provide.  Makes no financial sense (maybe).  Makes no practical sense (maybe).  But, I've avoided dealing with this part of my life for nearly 3 years now and it was really "the next thing.™"  I'm trusting an instinctual nudge that just seemed to indicate this was right.

I wish I had a clue what the vision thing is about - I sometimes think I have an idea where it might go and then, well, surprise!

The thing I really want to be clear about today though is this is not a veil of tears.  This is not drudgery.  The truth is, as best I can express it, that in sobriety my circumstances have been up, down, easy and challenging.  When I have applied my "...proper use of the will", I have had an amazing life regardless of my circumstances.  For alcoholics like me, AA works.  It has thus far, and I believe it will into the future.

I truly have had a life beyond my wildest dreams in my time in AA so far.

I can certainly see where someone who isn't an alcoholic would be reluctant to step into the harness of recovery as outlined in AA.  How, would one cure low self esteem, selfishness, self pity, etc. by carrying a " ... vision of God's will into all of our activities ... "?  How indeed?

For this drunk, it basically gets pretty simple:
problem = self
solution = God

It just really does work.

I don't feel like it...

I truly can't remember when a sponsee has offered the "I don't feel like it..." line to me.  I guess the current crop know what they will get from me in response.

"...For if an alcoholic failed to perfect and enlarge his spiritual life through work and self-sacrifice for others, he could not survive the certain trials and low spots ahead. If he did not work, he would surely drink again, and if he drank, he would surely die. Then faith would be dead indeed. With us it is just like that." (my emphasis added) BB pp. 14-15

I've not felt like it much of the time recently.  I've been in fear.  I'm embarrassed I've been in fear.  I've been selfish.  I've been embarrassed about being selfish.  The list goes on but I recognize it from when I hear it from myself and others.  It's just character defects as expressed in the latest drama of the day.

And, I have a sponsor that I really think I could convince him that my sorry lot in life just deserves a rest.  In my heart, I think I could get by with that about as readily as convincing him that it would be a really good idea for me to drink.  It might happen.

Truth is, I think my favorite sentence in our Big Book is: "... With us it is just like that."  It's an amazing catch-all that really, does, in the final analysis, explain it all.  Every little bit of it.

 'nuff said.

What's up...

I have no real excuses for not having posted the past few days.  I just haven't made the time to do more than read and comment.  I generally seem to much prefer that to writing my own entry these days.

My life since Thursday (my last post) has been too much self and too little thought of God and others.

The activities have included:

• working on my computing environment and making a commitment to learn some things I've been skating on (just sort of not committing to really learning about and improving my network but hating the problems and patching together a framework which sort of works, some of the time) for over 2 years
• my wife had an AA deal in Buena Vista, CO (about 4 hours from here - lives up to it's name) on Saturday night and we had a gorgeous drive over there
• some wonderful folks there put us up for the night but I had to fly to NYC on Sunday morning so we had a gorgeous drive back over the mountains in a wonderful full moon early Sunday
• I arrived in NYC on Sunday afternoon and got to walk around the upper west side and experience some of what I love (the people) and what I hate (all those people in a small area) about NYC
• I interviewed for a voluntary position there Monday afternoon and learned that the fact that the interview didn't come off well had precious little to do with me - I gave, I thought, a pretty good interview but the fact that the people who will make the decision were not there (along with other factors which might weigh against me) mean I will probably not be offered the job/service opportunity - that could well be a very good thing...
• I flew home last night and got home more tired than I'd like but I will get over it

During that time, I had plenty of time and opportunity to write an article but didn't.

My life feels like it's in a (major?) transition.  I've hesitated to put this observation down in a blog article because it's felt like that for over a year now (it's part of what brought me to writing here in the 1st place).  It just seems like I'm ready to cease fighting and let go of whatever resistance I have but I can't, for the life of me and with all the inventory and honesty I can muster get to anything I can do.  Writing this, I realize I'm just frustrated - yet more manifestations of selfishness and ego.

At the very least, I'm here for now (did you notice? ;-) ) and that is all I've got.

Now, it's on to the next thing...

Thank you.

p.s. the pictures are the best view I got of midtown (I think) from the cab on the way to LGA and Union (I think) on the way out Monday night.

Self...

Our good friend Philip continues to amaze me and do this deal.  I'm sure he is certainly giving me more than I'm giving him at this point.

 This morning, we recited the 3rd step prayer together on our knees and he got started writing out his list of resentments.  As we read from the book, I realized how very many of the answers for my  trials of the past few weeks were suggested in that portion of the Big Book that starts after the part we normally sleep through at the beginning of our meetings:

"The first requirement is that we be convinced that any life run on self-will can hardly be a success. On that basis we are almost always in collision with something or somebody, even though our motives are good. ... Each person is like an actor who wants to run the whole show; is forever trying to arrange the lights, the ballet, the scenery and the rest of the players in his own way. If his arrangements would only stay put, if only people would do as he wished, the show would be great. Everybody, including himself, would be pleased. ...

"... What usually happens? The show doesn't come off very well. ... He becomes angry, indignant, self-pitying. ... Is he not a victim of the delusion that he can wrest satisfaction and happiness out of this world if he only manages well? ... And do not his actions make each of them wish to retaliate, snatching all they can get out of the show? Is he not, even in his best moments, a producer of confusion rather than harmony?

"Our actor is self-centered--ego-centric, as people like to call it nowadays. ... Whatever our protestations, are not most of us concerned with ourselves, our resentments, or our self-pity?

"Selfishness--self-centeredness! That, we think, is the root of our troubles. Driven by a hundred forms of fear, self-delusion, self-seeking, and self-pity, we step on the toes of our fellows and they retaliate. ...

"So our troubles, we think, are basically of our own making. They arise out of ourselves, and the alcoholic is an extreme example of self-will run riot, though he usually doesn't think so. Above everything, we alcoholics must be rid of this selfishness. We must, or it kills us! ... Many of us had moral and philosophical convictions galore, but we could not live up to them even though we would have liked to. ... We had to have God's help.

" ...First of all, we had to quit playing God. ... Next, we decided that hereafter in this drama of life, God was going to be our Director. He is the Principal; we are His agents. ... "

(3rd step promises?)

" ... (1) We had a new Employer. ... (2) He provided what we needed ... (3) we became less and less interested in ourselves ... (4) More and more we became interested in seeing what we could contribute to life. ... (5) we felt new power flow in ... (6) we enjoyed peace of mind ... (7) we discovered we could face life successfully ... (8) we became conscious of His presence ... (9) we began to lose our fear of today, tomorrow or the hereafter. (10) We were reborn.

" ... 'God, I offer myself to Thee--to build with me and to do with me as Thou wilt. Relieve me of the bondage of self, that I may better do Thy will. Take away my difficulties, that victory over them may bear witness to those I would help of Thy Power, Thy Love, and Thy Way of life. May I do Thy will always!' ... " BB pp. 60-63

Seems pretty clear:  Problem = Self

I can't fix a selfish, sick mind, with a selfish, sick mind.

Philip asked me: "...So, at some point does this become, like, an automatic thing?  This surrender?"

I wished I could give him a different answer than what my experience is.  I assured him that, over time, I've developed some different responses and that I'm not as reluctant as I once was around noticing and acknowledging that what was going on was just another manifestation of the selfishness and self-centeredness that I've discovered as a result of this process.

But, for today, my selfishness didn't have to result in acts of homicide or suicide.

That seemed to give him some hope.

Imagine...

Talk or sleep...?

My home group volunteers for Night Watch on Mondays.  Night Watch is when the phones from the local central office are forwarded to your phone from 7 at night until 7 in the morning.  The thought being that it's better for a real drunk to answer the phone than to have callers have to deal with an answering machine or service.

With those of us that rotate this commitment around our group, about every 2-3 months it's my turn to take the phones.  Not to put too fine a point on it, I'm old and I really enjoy my sleep.  A lot.

So, it's with no small reluctance that I accept this shot at martyrdom for the service of AA.  Many weeks, nobody calls.  Last night we had 3.  One was a guy who related the "...I have a friend who I think might have a problem..." saga we often hear, another call was, I think, his friend who was probably really trying to call but seemed to just want to hang up rather than talk, and then there was the guy who called about 11:15 - just as I was thoroughly asleep.

After I finally got myself fully awake (not an easy feat last night), he was asking about: "...but does anyone really find a God in this life?"  The philosopher/reluctant drunk/lonely guy/"I'm gonna die if I don't stop"/"I have all the answers"/"AA doesn't work for me..." - you probably know the guy.

Our Night Watch process suggests the "right" way to handle a 12-step call of this nature is to get the guy's number, find someone else on our list and, pass the call to them - rationale being that we don't want to tie up the Central Office line in case another call comes in.  Sometimes I do that but, more often, I either just work them off the phone with a commitment to show up at a meeting or I indulge them and just "chat" with them wherever their sometimes befogged consciousness takes us.  I figure I have call waiting in the unlikely event someone else would call and I'm already awake so why spread the pain of a midnight call if you don't have to.

Last night, for reasons I never really understand, I decided to indulge him for an hour or so and we had a really amazing conversation.  Turns out, he's really had a pretty good experience in and around AA.  He just can't stop drinking.  I assured him that part really sucks.  We opined about the nature of willingness and what may or may not be working for him.  We discussed what had seemed to work for periods of sobriety for him.  ...about our thoughts and feelings around meetings.  He said he hadn't yet drank last night (my guess he was lying, what's yours?) but we both recognized the familiar thoughts and feelings that were leading him in that direction, one more time.

We talked a lot about the nature of "God as we understood him" and the broad spectrum that folks use as a concept for God in AA.  We also talked about not believing in God and still getting drunk over and over.

After an hour of this conversation, it was time to hang up and I was truly grateful.  He said he was too.  I suggested some things he might "do", rather than "think."  He thought that a novel idea and said he was going to try.

I woke up completely sober.

What could be better?

Happy 100...

My father would have been 100 years old today.  He died in April of 1996.  If my parents gave me nothing else, I seem to have the genetics for longevity.  But, they gave me a lot.

My father was an amazing man and had an amazing (though seemingly ordinary) life.  With only a third grade education, he finished his working life in his 60s as a respected and successful businessman (refrigeration and air conditioning installation and repair - working all over northeastern Colorado).  He and my mother (his 3rd wife) were married for 45 years when he died.  He instilled in me a strong work ethic, gave a belief that "I can do anything" that made me all that I am today (positive and not) and, gave me opportunities he could never have dreamed of in his hard young life.  I still owe him so much.

And, some of the lessons I learned from his life and example were not the positive ones.

As long as I knew him, my father always avoided conflict.  You could see in him when something came up with mom, a customer, politics, someone that worked for him, his church - anywhere in his life - he would have an almost visceral reaction and many times act irrationally.  Sometimes toward his own detriment.  Most of his life, he was just accepted as "quiet" or "shy" but it is obvious, on reflection, that he never wanted to have to take a position and then possibly defend it if someone opposed his view.

I sort of have a sense that this might have come, in part, from some historical experiences I never heard of first hand.  There are stories, for example, of him chasing a then wife through the house with a gun.  Other stories where it was obvious that he man we knew had a darker past than he wanted revealed.  He had secrets up until a life-changing, year-long rehabilitation in a military hospital during World War II.  As a part of that rehabilitation, he was sent to a civilian hospital on the Colorado plains where he met my mother, they married, joined a church and created the life I knew (including me).

As he got older, something changed in his head.  He reached a point in his late 60s where he could no longer enjoy intense drama in movies or on TV.  Light comedy was fine.  In his early to mid 70s, this "phobia" ("neurosis" ? I really wouldn't know the right diagnosis or term) expanded to where any dramatic tension at all was too much for him so he would only watch sporting events.  In his late 70s, the risk of injury in sport or the tension in a close game was too much for him so he only watched the weather channel (I'm not making this up).  About the time he was 80, the weather channel started showing dramatic clips from extreme weather (school buses hanging off cliffs, tornadoes blowing up houses, etc.) so it was no longer possible for him to watch anything on TV.  Whatever happened in his head, he would suffer from bad dreams or insomnia for weeks if he was even around a TV with normal programming.

On reflection, I could see that, whatever was going on around conflict in his head caused his world to become smaller and smaller until he really could hardly participate in life.

Up until that time, I had always wanted to be like many of the older people in our community.  Unlike my father, we have examples here where we see people active, outgoing, engaged and happy well into their 90s.  A lot of them.

I figured that, when I got old, I would develop an appropriate social life and become that who I wanted me to be.  I realized , with my father's example, that would never happen for me.

What I realized was that who I am at 85 has precious little to do with what I decide I want to be at 85 and has everything to do with who I am at 45.

One of the many gifts of AA is the knowledge that I can change.  Today.

As a consequence, I can't tell you how many times I've forced my decrepit little introverted and intolerant self to an AA meeting, service obligation or social event.  Many times, it's the last place my heart would really lead me.

But, I know the consequences of those choices:  A tiny world where there can be no conflict or suffering.

God willing, I'm preparing myself for a different elderhood than my father experienced. 

God willing.

Doing the deal...

Mike and I had an uncomfortable conversation this morning.  Our common observation is that he's on his way out the door toward drinking one more time because, even though he's living in a halfway house, facing dire consequences and in health, likely still to wind up on the street in the winter - he is not showing up where he says he'll be when he says he'll be there.  In other words, he's just "not doing the deal."  As best I can figure, we're both pretty much honest with our assessments.

I hate it when I get to this place with a sponsee.  In fact, it seems like he's beyond what I can offer (aren't they all?).  I've watched him go from a one-year sober mid-level sales executive three years ago to nearly five years to death's door drunk and bouncing in and out of the rooms for the past several months until his life was thoroughly burned down.  He is now living in a halfway house where's he's racked up a little over a month of sobriety. You might be able to tell that I'm reluctant to add his name to my sponsorship resume today.

I was ruminating on our conversation when I read the following excerpt from a crime novel, The Girl of His Dreams, By Donna Leon.  Four people (two detectives and their respective wives) working on a casual investigation have just attended a meeting of what they presume is a charlatan Christian leader's flock where he very charismatically expressed encouragement of a small group toward "goodness" - it starts with the main character's wife expressing her opinion about the presumed fake:

'... Nothing he said was in any way exceptional just the same sort of pious platitudes you get in the editorials in Famiglia Cristiana,' Paola went on, leaving Brunetti to wonder how on earth she could be familiar with them. 'But it's certainly the sort of thing people like to hear,' she concluded.
'Why?' Vianello asked, then waved to the barman, passing his hand over the four glasses.
'Because they don't have to do anything' Paola answered. 'All they have to do is feel the right things, and that makes them believe they deserve credit for having done something.' Her voice deepened into disgust and she added, 'It's all so terribly American.'
'Why American?' Nadia asked, reaching for one of the fresh glasses the barman set on the counter.
'Because they think it's enough to feel things: they've come to believe it's more important than doing things, or it's the same thing or, at any rate, deserves just as much credit as actually doing something. What is it that poseur of a president of theirs was always saying, "I feel your pain"? As if that made any difference to anything. God, it's enough to choke a pig.' Paola picked up her glass and took a hefty slug.
'All you've got to do is have the proper feelings,' she went on, 'the fashionable sentiments, and make a business about how delicate your sensibility is. And then you don't actually have to do anything. All you do is stand there with your precious sentiments hanging out while the world falls over itself applauding you for them and giving you credit for having the same feelings that any sentient being would have.' Brunetti had seldom seen Paola respond so savagely. 'My, my, my,' he observed and took a sip of his prosecco.
Her head whipped towards him, her eyes startled. But then he watched her play her remarks back and take another hefty swig before saying, 'It was exposure to all that goodness, I think. It goes right to my head and provokes the worst parts of my character.'
They all laughed and the conversation became general. 'I'm always nervous when people don't use concrete nouns when they speak,' Nadia said.

This struck me profoundly.  An American author reflecting on the image American's might (probably?) have in a casual Italian conversation.  Truth known, I think it's not a completely American phenomena but I can't tell you how fed up I am with our culture where, as Ms. Leon opined, feeling a sentiment is tantamount to actually doing something appropriate in response to an event or circumstance (a disaster, an injustice, etc.).  It is a great understanding of what I see in political and religious circles, family and, dare I say, many AA meetings I go to.

I think I can even let go of the cynicism and skepticism I hold at some meetings and better understand the distinction  I hear between expressions of the "problem" and the "solution" in AA gatherings.

In  our AA program of action, we recover by "doing" things, not by "feeling" things.

I think that might be a part of Mike's deal.  We're both watching as he caries his feelings from place to place.  I've worked with him to focus on looking for opportunities to be useful and contribute - that seems to have been useful (for ~40 days so far).  However, he can't show up (home group, meet with me, etc.) because suddenly he doesn't feel like it.  And, the fact the he feels bad about not showing up somehow excuses the behavior.

Wow.

Mom...

In about 15 minutes, I leave to pick up my mother.  We "do lunch" about once a week.  I don't even think about these times without reflecting on Pam's chapter with her mom last year.

My mom may outlive us all.  She's a feisty 88 years young but she's getting more frail each week and month.  She's happier today than I've ever known her in my life.  About 12 years ago, she moved from my home town (where she lived for nearly 70 years) to a senior apartment in the town where we live.  I suppose most people think she moved to be closer to me but her real reasons for moving were: 1) she was "done" with that small town, 2) she wanted to simplify her life (sell her house, etc.) and, 3) as her luck would have it, she lives on the 10th floor of a rent controlled senior residence with a gorgeous mountain view.  She's living today a life that she had only dreamed of a few years ago with lots of senior activities and a bunch of fellow curmudgeons that can always find something or someone to gripe about.

As I've pointed out in a few previous articles, we all get a kick out of the fact that, if you ask her, the biggest problem she has today is that her son (me) doesn't come to visit her often enough.  In fact, she will probably let you know that even if you don't ask her.

I have understood it for a number of years that this part of our life is not at all about me doing whatever it would take to please her.  I have a lifetime of experience and numbers of AA inventories to assure me of the futility of that.  What I get is the great privilege to do what I can to be "complete" with her.

A few years ago, a spiritual guide shared that, when he made his amends to his mom, she stopped him and said: "Son, all I've ever wanted for you in my life was for you to be 'happy'."  So, for 30 years, he stopped by her house every Sunday and was "happy" - regardless what was going on with him and his life. That's the model that I strive to follow.

My sponsor and I had a long chat Wednesday night.  We covered an area of my life where I've suffered great frustration for at least 20 years.  It is at the core of my identity.  After a thorough discussion of the truth around my frustration, we talked at some length about St. Francis.  We talked way too much for my comfort about "giving with without expectation."  We both came to the conclusion that I can't do that.  I've never been able to do that and will likely never be able to do it.  So, unless God changes something fundamental in me and my universe, it will never change - I will die a selfish death as a result of my alcoholism.

So today, mom and I will have a perfect lunch.  As is our style, we might wind up spending the whole afternoon on the quest of the next great health aid.  I will probably hear more about bowel movements and aches than I ever intended to hear.  I will get to adore her enough that she can't escape the fact that she is special and loved.

(later - couldn't finish without being late)

Our "mission" today was to have included lunch and then run an errand to her doctor's office.  Imagine our shock when after we'd successfully beat the lunch rush by getting there at little before noon, we finished lunch and realized the doctor's office was closed from noon to 2pm.  What to do?

We got 3 plastic glasses she needed at the dollar store (3 for a dollar), went to 2 grocery stores to get the pumpkin she wanted, went for a quick drive into the foothills to see the deer, got her pills at the doctor's office (yes, they're the same ones carried at probably 20 other stores in our town) and went to her place so that I could open her jars of sauerkraut and beets.  It was a pretty typical day with mom.

The same spiritual guide that I mentioned before talked about his frustration when his elderly father would have him drive all over Denver so that he could cash in his free battery coupons at Radio Shack - one battery at each store.  He never really used many (if any) of the batteries but he was the battery go-to guy for the family.  My guide was complaining about these incredible monthly journeys to his sponsor when his sponsor asked him: "...didn't he do something special for you when you were young?"  He tearfully remembered the times that he had his father drive him all over Denver to find a 10-cent comic book he wanted and never complained about the battery trips again.

Part of the ritual of these deals is for mom at some point to express how terrible she feels about taking me away from my day.  I doubt that she's really all that sincere about her regret but it seems to be what she needs to say as a part of the dance we do.

I think when I left today, mom felt a little bit special.

I hope so.