The Writes of a Slacker

When it comes to writing, I have always been a slacker.

In college, I would go to the first class to get the syllabus and check for papers to be written or essay tests. If there were any, I would shop around for the classes without them, then go to adds-and-drops and redo my schedule to avoid as much writing as possible.

So, a day and a half after my last drink (up until now), I walked into the office of a psychologist. When I walked in, I told her that before we were through she was going to tell me I needed to go see those people that help people quit drinking. She said to sit down. After I told her what I had been up to the last few years, she said she would not treat me if I did not go see those people. I said okay. I went that night and have been going ever since.

Now, the other thing she suggested I do was to keep a journal. I said okay. I had shared with her that I was having periods of depression that seemed to come out of nowhere for no reason. She said if I kept a journal I might start seeing some patterns. In12-step meetings, a heard a lot of people talk about writing, inventorying and journaling. I thought cool, that goes right along with what my therapist said to do.

I started a journal right away. I recorded my prayer to be kept sober in the mornings and my thanks at night. I kept track of how many meetings I made. I wrote about what went on in the meetings, the people I met and my fears. I did this consistently for about two years, then sporadically for another couple of years. For the last two years I had just turned to writing to do an inventory when my derrière was on fire.

This blog, motivated by ego I am sure, is resulting in my return to writing in recovery. It is becoming a sanity-saver. Except for a couple of black eyes from cranky readers, it has been a pleasant and enlightening experience. Even the shots from critics are good for me.

One friend of mine likes to say that writing things down helps to hold his thoughts still, so he can get a good look at them. Our literature says it helped 100 hopeless alcoholics get sober in the 1930s and it has been working ever since. My therapist said it would be a good idea and she rocks.

It still feels like a chore. I can still think of tons of things to do with the hour a day I spend on this writing thing. But, one day at a time, I am writing again. If I had to say what the greatest benefit of it is for me, it would be that it helps me get a little more honest with myself and others. That’s not easy for me. On Twitter the other day, someone shared “Every time I try to be honest, I lie.” I would not have understood that statement when I first got into recovery. Writing, among other things in the program, has allowed me to see why someone would say that.

Thanks for the love, tolerance and patience you have shown me as I grow up in public. Thanks for giving this slacker a second chance.

Hold that thought...

James

Wresting

Easy does it. Who would have thunk it?

An ex-boss once told me that I had a “sense of urgency” about me. She told me she was glad that I had it due to the nature of our deadline oriented work, but I might want to ease up a bit. I am one of those folks recovery literature talks about that is “a victim of the delusion that he can wrest satisfaction and happiness out of this world if he only manages well.” I  looked up the word ‘wrest’ and it says: to twist or turn; pull, jerk or force by violent twist. That’s me alright.

I read once in some Buddhist literature that approaching tasks with “ease and attention” is most effective. My innate style, although, is the first - twist, turn, pull, jerk or force by violent twist. So many of our meeting rooms have slogans framed on our walls as reminders of these age-old bits of wisdom. A friend of mine who is not in a 12-step program referred to them as our “bumper sticker philosophies”. Works for me.

I don’t think it would have ever crossed my mind that easy would ever do anything, except maybe get me out of those dime store Chinese finger handcuffs. I have always been sure that I better worry, calculate, pre-meditate and endlessly cogitate on anything I plan to do. Then, it would behoove me to bear down on what ever the task may be, like my very life depends on it. And god forbid anything goes wrong. If it does, I better fix it quickly before anyone finds out what a loser I am. Thinking like this does nothing to keep me sane or serene. It is no more effective than the easier, softer way either.

So, as I face today, I will try to remember “Easy does it”. Life throws enough twists, pulls, jerks and violent twists at me without me creating more. Today I will focus on approaching things with ease and attention.

Wish me luck. 

Hold that thought...

James

 

Getting Me Down

The first time I ever went snow skiing, I read a brochure before we started. It said that skiing was a sport that tries the human spirit. I remember thinking, “Why am I doing this?”

Life is like that for me sometimes. Last week was one of those weeks that really tested my spirit. It was a touchstone of my spiritual condition. My spiritual condition proved to be not-so-great.

As a beginner skier, so much energy is wasted by fighting every turn, every rise and fall; falling and getting up over and over. That is what last week reminded me of. I found myself off in the trees several times. A couple of times faced with moguls as far as the eye could see. Once getting blindsided by an inconsiderate, fallible fellow skier. I found myself praying for someone to get me down from that mountain before I hurt myself. When I get like that, I start to think, “Why am I doing this?”

Something did get me down off that mountain safe and sound. Turns out that I was safe all along. Literally millions of people on this planet faced real problems last week. Mine were self-created and mostly imaginary. If it weren't for the love and guidance of my fellows, I would become lost in this delusion like I was years ago. Now, I just have shorter little trips into that place and eventually I am led back to safety.

At some level as I struggled -  I knew that my regular meeting with my sponsor, a meeting with a sponsee, twice daily prayer and meditation and a spattering of meetings would carry me through the week safely. I then planned a day off to make this weekend a three-day affair.

This weekend, I surrounded myself with the people that I love and I draw so much strength from. Morning, noon and night I spent with my people. As always the effect on my outlook and attitude was amazing. Heart to heart talks, helping someone in a worse condition than myself and going out and having pizza with a troop of rowdy recovering alcoholics were just a few of the things that refreshed my spirit and renewed my optimism. I have been pulled back to reality - the reality that i am one lucky son of a gun. As I begin a beautiful day off, I feel happy to be alive. My house is clean and I am back to the gym. I will try to eat healthier today.

It takes a village to keep James on track - and now and then the ski patrol. Occasionally you guys carry me down the mountain and sometimes you tell me to quit my bitching and ski. On a few occasions you have just rolled my ass down. Somehow, I am always taken care of.

Thank the gods, it works when you work it.

Hold that thought...

James

p.s. new logo - no more briefs! yeah!

Knifed

The Dalai Lama Facebooked me this morning - well, me and few thousand of his closest pals.

He says love, compassion & concern for others are REAL sources of happiness. Hmmmm. He says if I have them in abundance that I will not be disturbed by uncomfortable circumstances. If I nurse hatred that I will not be happy even in the lap of luxury.

Wish I had more of that stuff. Sometimes the compulsion to hate (really too strong of a word) is so powerful. Usually the urge is fueled by some self-righteous indignation or some perceived wrong done to myself. Or, it could have something to do with that knife sticking out of my back. Of course, in my life, there is always some happy, joyous and free 'doo-dah' nearby to tell me that if I were to examine that knife closely it would most likely have my fingerprints all over it.

Anyone who relies on the 12 Steps to negotiate life knows what is in store for me if I chose to deal with a resentment with the steps. We also know what's in store for us if we don't. Sometimes I feel like I just can't take the leveling of pride one more time. Sometimes King Baby wants someone else to humble their effin selves. As hard as finding my part in a situation can be, it pales in comparison to cleaning up my side of the street.

So, once more on this road to happy effin destiny, I get to make that third step decision - claim my part to the person whose knife is wedged between my shoulder blades or continue to nurse that resentment. Either way there are consequences. Again, I get to choose - be 'right' (or should I say righteous) OR be happy.

Honestly, still sticking with righteous here, contemplating the happy thing. More will be revealed they say.

Hold that thought...
James

Desire and Gratitude

Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; but remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for. - Epicurus (341 BC - 270 BC)

I am reminded that I begged for sobriety. I longed to own a house. I hoped for this life I have today.

Now ungrateful, I curse because I can not douse my angers and fears with alcohol. I resent my home for tethering me to discontent. They say happiness is an inside job. They say if you can’t be happy in your own backyard, you’ll never be happy anywhere. They must be happy freekin' mother effers.

So, desire for what I don’t have, desire for people to behave differently, desire for my day to have been easier, desire for anything other than what I already have - leads to discontent. 

There are many happy moments in my life, but they usually do not seem to coincide with thoughts of myself and what I don’t have or what I am not getting. When I am mulling over the good people in my life, a half-smile frequently creeps over my face. When I am thinking about how those ‘other people’ are making my life difficult, I get a crease between my eyebrows and everything in my life starts to look worthless.

Fear and anger turn my magical, magnifying mind from a positive, grateful perspective on my life to one that is very negative and uncomfortable. I become rather useless to others and a drag to be around. I get very discontent. I start to want to change the way I feel - muy pronto.

My experience tells me that I can not sit here and think or write myself into ‘not desiring’ anything. Experience tells me to take note of this self-centered focus, thank my higher power for what I have, get up, go shower, kiss the dogs and turn my thoughts to someone that may need my help. Put one foot in front of the other and do the next responsible thing and my thinking will eventually change.

I will eventually bump into some gratitude if I don’t run, don’t hide and don’t drink.

Hold that thought...

James

Life is Dukkha

Life is Dukkha.

I was reading a little bit about Buddha's First Noble Truth this morning after reading a blog post by a young addict struggling with physical pain and the urge take pain pills. I Googled the Buddha's quote while pondering suffering. I was remembering that as a young pampered prince, it was seeing a suffering man that set the Buddha off on his journey to enlightenment.

First let me say, I am in no way an expert on Buddhism. I can hardly spell it, much less teach it, but I am much more respectful of the followers of these teachings than I am the followers of any other religion.

So, remembering the Buddha's first noble truth as "Life is suffering", I Googled it. Turns out the Buddha didn't speak English. Go figure. He actually said that life is 'Dukkha." First it made me snicker. Sounds a little like "Life is Doo Doo", but that would be more like James First Less-Than-Noble Truth.

There is really no English translation for Dukkha. He describes Dukkha as suffering, but also as anything impermanent or changing, or any state which is dependent on anything else. So, Dukkha can also be happiness or bliss or any other state which is subject to change, which is just about anything.

So when I am having a shitty day, is it because life is Dukkha? When I am having a good day is it because life is Dukkha? No, the Buddha might just be suggesting the shit or the bliss is something fleeting. That I just need to pass through it, gently, today. Not cling to it, not judge it, not resist it, not fear it, just pass through it. Of course I could always be completely wrong.

Today. One day. Just for today. One day at a time. Sounds like there are a few "Noble Truths" lurking behind a few of the slogans in recovery.

So, as I trudge my road today, I am likely to step in something resembling Dukkha. I will most likely be okay if I just recognize it as just that, Dukkha, and just keep walking, no fear, no clinging, no resistance.

Let's try this one more day.

Hold that thought...
James

Exposed

Keeping my thoughts to myself seems to keep me focused on problems and negativity. Communicating my thoughts to others seems to lead towards solutions, hope and/or gratitude. When I lay my crazy thinking bare, the flaws are exposed and I am shamed into looking at things differently.

Some mornings I can hardly even imagine sitting down in front of a keyboard and sharing my gloomy, maudlin, bitchy, depressing thinking with anyone. When I do it anyway, something interesting happens. When the light of day is shone on my self-destructive thinking it seems, most of the time, to have the effect that bucket of water did on the Wicked Witch of the West.

I guess in a way, sharing comes with accountability. Unfortunately, I feel very free to abuse myself in the privacy of my own cranium. My goodness gracious, what would the neighbors think If they saw me commiserating with this struggling, recovering, fallible child of God. Behind shuttered windows, I sit here sharing a cup of coffee with him, running endless over his shortcomings, flaws and fears - stoking the fires of his pessimism. Shameless.

Of course everyday is not like this. Many days I wake full of enthusiasm, hope and contentment. Some days I am somewhere in between those extremes. But, the days I resist writing or sharing are the days when I am not feeling so good, ironically the days that I really need to do it. I can hardly contain myself when everything is coming up roses. I could ramble endlessly to all who are kind enough to listen, but on the dark days - I resist.

Lately, I have been wearing life like a horse hair robe and sharing has been difficult. Experience tells me though, that persistence is in order, and I must keep laying my thinking bare. So there.

Hold that thought...
James