Mr. SponsorPants

Ego: Thank you, Mr. Tolle, for your wonderful thoughts. Here, if I may, are a few additional comments of my own.

 

 

Ego is a part of the human experience.  Sometimes in AA, and in other schools of spiritual thought, we place it in a negative light (or, maybe that's just my interpretation of the light it is placed in?).

Speaking strictly for myself, I'm not sure the point is to try not to have one at all -- it is not a bad part of me, it is just a part of me; just like I have an arm, or a leg, and they are neither good nor bad but simply parts of me. 

I believe (for me) the point is to be aware of my ego and then try to transcend it.  To not let it be a driver but rather (to indulge a terrible metaphor) to have it be just a passenger.

To work -- using the tools of AA -- to be "right sized," that  is, neither 'greater than' nor 'less than' in relation to others, the world, or strangely sometimes even myself.

My greatest successes in this endeavor have come from two things:

1.  The repetition of a healthy message I hear in AA meetings (although that healthy message may be presented in an unhealthy way, meaning, some people are, as they say, shining examples while others are horrible warnings.  I learn equally from those who inspire me to emulate a positive example as I do from those who caution me through their behavior to try to be nothing like them).

2.  Prayer.  Whether I am actually able to connect with the Divine, or it is just a form of mental gymnastics in which I am rewriting the software of my mind, doesn't actually matter.  The result is what matters.  And in dealing with my ego, prayer works.

Ego: Some writings from Eckhart Tolle

 

 

 

 

 

a poor job of multi-tasking

 

And sometimes, when I write these blog posts -- these strange messages from (sometimes) my ego, (sometimes) my experience, and (often) my heart -- it feels like I'm just sitting talking with all of you, and you're sitting right next to me with a cup of tea, your shoes off and your feet tucked up under you on the sofa.  Just me blabbing to you -- as much mess as message.  This is one of those, I'm afraid.

I'm doing a poor job of mult-tasking.  Writing while noodling around on iTunes (somehow all my music got sucked up into the cloud, along with my playlists, which of course I never bothered to back up -- do it now? when I can do it later? Please!  I imagine my music up there in the cloud, bumping into everyone else's music, and at first feeling shy and self conscious but then remembering, "Hey! We are great!" and standing up tall.  Wow. Project much SP?)  Anyone who saw all my music in one group would be... puzzled.  There's eclectic and then there's multiple personality disorder.  Given that scale, when we talk about "the committee" in our heads in AA, it seems like each of mine has their own personal iTunes shopping experience. 

I'm also randomly jotting down a list of things not to forget -- packing for a road trip this weekend. Heading out to an AA Convention and man, do I need one right now.  So far my list includes "Phone charger cord.  Almonds.  Blazer."

I told you I was doing a poor job of multi-tasking.  Real grown-ups make organized lists and not random stream-of-consciousness scribbles on the back of an envelope for Christ's sake!  Ah well, unmasked once again -- if there's such a thing as a real grown up I. Ain't. It.

Part of why the break is such a welcome relief is that there have been some changes at work I haven't had time to write about here. (I've barely had time to write here period, let alone get all personal and chatty about my fear -- why is it always fear? <sigh> -- and daily challenges on the job.)  They've moved me to a different restaurant from the cozy one I started at.  Lest you think this is some sort of endorsement on their part, I'm afraid it's more akin to a battlefield promotion.  Someone quit, then someone else quit... if my bosses are like the little boy sticking his fingers in the dyke to stem the flood, then I, dear readers, am one of the fingers gettin' stuck.

Much (much) busier. Much harder.  A much younger crew. I say this without (too much) exaggeration:  I come home from work sometimes and think "this job is actually shaving years off my life."

Boo hoo, poor me.

Never fear.  AA works.  Some days I'm grateful -- I just wake up that way with my head on straight.

Some days I have to get to grateful -- and it's like starting a car on a cold winter's morning.  Takes a couple turns of the ignition key and a little "rrrr...rrrr...rrrr" before it starts up.  And even then you have to sit and let it idle some.

And some days... some days it's like that thing that fell on the floor and rolled under the sofa and you lay down on the rug and sneeze at all the dust bunnies you discover and stretch your arm all the way out and fish around and you can only just brush it with your finger tips and then the very act of doing so seems to push it that little bit farther away and out of reach and your head space is simply crap all day.

Since I've had a few more of those last types of mornings lately than I care to confess, even with all the damn writing and praying and sponsees and blah blah blah, a weekend of AA out of town is (possibly) quite literally a life-saving prescription from Dr. God. (who, by the way, does take all kinds of insurance, but the lab work is still killer and covered under a different plan.)

"Arrange someone to check on cats" goes on the list. 

"Kindle" on the list.

The new restaurant -- and the drama around this which isn't entirely in my head -- has prompted a fresh round of spiritual examination, too.  Seems to be God's will that some people are cashiers at Walmart. Or cooks in my kitchen (which is hot, hard work.  I'm a really nice boss, but it is still really hot, hard work).  What if you don't like God's will for you?  You can do the footwork right?  But what if

Wait. STOP.  Now you see why a weekend of AA for me can be filed under "potentially life saving."  The "What if's" are about as useless as the "Why's" when it comes to God and God's will.  Accept or skewer yourself on the kabob of your famously, redundantly, riotous self-will.  Or shut up and do the footwork and (as always, damnit) stay out of the result. (Aargh!  I literally want to scream at that sometimes.)

"Kindle Charger" on the list.

"Toothbrush" list.

"Comb. Chapstick."  Wait, is that one of those can't-take-with-you things for airplanes now? I've been able to avoid flying for quite a while.  Oh well, if they need to confiscate my chapstick they're welcome to it.

And I have a new boss. Which is another whole post for another whole day, I assure you.  Suffice to say that he has, so far, not proven to be a huge fan of the Mr. SponsorPants Experience. And sometimes that is in your head, and sometimes it isn't.  This... isn't. 

Boo hoo, poor me.  Did you know there are children in Africa who have so many flies around their eyes that from a distance they appear to be wearing glasses?  (Multi-tasking! I'm also watching an interview with a former President who does a lot of wonderful charity work around the world.  He's talking about the more than two million latrines they've dug in the sub-sahara regions, transforming whole villages' hygiene almost overnight.  And I am whining about my boss who might not like me as much as I want him to.  Jesus.)  Perspective SP?  BUT... perspective is good -- IMPORTANT -- but my life is my life and my problems are MY problems and I'm the one who needs to do something about it.  What's that part in the Big Book about the retired clergyman sighing about the sins of the 20th Century?  Awareness of the world and the deplorable things sometimes found in it must not be used to completely undercut myself.  That, too, is as out-of-balance as NO awareness of the world and a complete self-focus.

Oh man, some of this music is old, old drinking music.  Music I listened to when sneaking out of the house, stealing my dad's car out of the garage and driving out into the night.  Purchased in a nostalgic sweep of emotion, sometimes it takes me right back to being that sad boy on those mad nights of very bad freefall.  Let's... let's skip listening to those this evening, shall we?

The new kids who work for me have divined so far that I don't drink, and that I am a man of a certain age with a suspicious amount of knowledge about old Broadway musicals, books, movies and television they've never heard of.  I try not to judge, but at least once a day I tell them all they are woefully un-informed and that by having the poor judgement to be born as late as they were they missed... well, simply everything fun and interesting, and must now wander a barren pop landscape of "Real Housewives" and Little Heinie, or Baby Lulu -- or whatever that poor child with the tv show and the sugar addiction is called.  They pause in whatever they're doing and look at me like rabbits, confused by the oncoming headlights of a strange and maybe dangerous car barreling towards them.

See? AA Weekend.  Stat.

 

 

may have taken the first step to heart, but...

 

 

 

 

 

For my friends new to AA

who may have taken the first step to heart

but still struggle mightily with both self esteem and ego,

remember:

 

 

Just because there is

something wrong with you

doesn't mean that there is

everything wrong with you.

 

 

We are not bad people getting good,

we are sick people getting better.

And better.

And better.

 

 

it really does

 

 

The

painful part

is not that you fear people might be

thinking negative, critical things about you.

The

painful part

is that you fear they might be right.

 

Let it go.

Sobriety is a gift

we work to keep and we are privileged to pass along.

It ultimately does not matter what self-criticisms and self-loathing and self, self, self, self we are tangled in.

All that self obsession will eventually

evaporate in the sunlight of the spirit

of service

and sobriety.

 

Don't take yourself so seriously.

It works.

It really does.

 

 

The Monkey's Paw: Be careful what you wish for.

 

"The Monkey's Paw" is a short story written by W.W. Jacobs and originally published in England in 1902.

The tale, in short: A military man returns from serving in India with a monkey's paw, supposedly enchanted and able to grant three wishes.  Though there are the usual dire warnings about consequences and such, a couple uses the paw to wish for money to make their final house payment.  Shortly after the wish their son is killed in a horrible machinery accident and the sum they receive in compensation is the amount needed for their final payment.  After the funeral, distraught with grief, the mother wishes their son back.  A short while later, shambling footsteps drag up the front walk followed by a hollow knocking at the front door.  While the mother races to open the door, the father, knowing what horror is likely standing on the other side, wishes their boy away again.  Although different tellings and adaptations over the years ascribe high minded language about fate and fortune to the story, I've always thought the more direct "Be careful what you wish for" hit the nail on the head. (Or the paw on the palm, I suppose.)

 

* * * * *

 

I've written before about how my current job, while something I'm grateful for -- and a place I completely acknowledge where I've grown and changed in big and wonderful ways -- is not anything even remotely close to what I hoped/dreamt for in life -- especially at this age.  Having shared that, let me add that I know gratitude is not a homework assignment.  I can be sincerely grateful for something, see and enjoy all the good in it, and still have a vision of something different.

In fact -- and this is important for me -- the idea of seeking gratitude for what I have in my life cannot become a club I use to bludgeon myself into some sorry kind of stagnation.  It should neither be a way I blind myself from considering new paths nor an impediment to forward motion.  (For the record no one ever suggested it should be.  It's what my twisty thoughts and gnarly perspective sometimes take away from discussions about being grateful in sobriety.  Sometimes in the back of my mind I discover all kinds of "shoulds" and "shouldnt's" with no idea how they grew there.  Quietly, I suppose, like toadstools in the dark.)  Wanting more -- or even wanting different -- does not automatically equal being ungrateful for what you have.  It can mean that, yes -- so it's something to look at -- but it doesn't always mean that.

For me, gratitude is one important way I keep a conscious contact with a God of my understanding; a healthy perspective on what I have and what I've been given rather than a pointless focus on what I lack (and therein lies the true stagnation).  But sometimes the itch is to build on the gifts I've been given, not just to appreciate them.  Emmett Fox calls it "Divine Discontent" and uses the somewhat cliche but very apt analogy of the caterpillar and the butterfly to illustrate this concept. 

 

* * * * *

 

I've been praying to God for help with the work thing.  Specifically, I've been praying big, open-ended, "get me out of here is this all there is get me out of here throw me a rope throw me a rope throw me a rope" kinds of prayer.  I know I have to do the footwork, but in a big Universe full of wild miracles and crazy opportunities I've built a decent track record for knocking on doors and doing the aforementioned footwork to go through them -- but sometimes I need God to reveal the damn door, and my throw-me-a-rope-God's are my way of asking for that.  Certainly AA is wise to suggest that I "pray only for God's will for me and the power to carry that out" as it helps me stay away from resentments and expectations of God and how H/She works, but I think praying for, in essence, other ways to use the gifts I've been given lines up nicely with that.  (I know, deeply, that I am a whisker's breadth away from some spiritual lawyering there, weaving rhetoric and warping context to bolster my own bullshit, but I don't think I'm quite there.  Of course, we never do, do we?)

And my prayer has been answered.

I'm out of the restaurant I've been managing.

And into a different restaurant for the same company.  Busier, much more challenging and far less convenient, commute-wise.  Full disclosure:  There is a modest raise with this transfer, so there is that.

Now, before the kind hearted and well-intentioned of you gently point out that this might count as some kind of endorsement from the top folks at this fledgling enterprise I'm afraid I must inform you that this is much more akin to a battlefield promotion.  They're in a mad scramble to fill the suddenly open spots, not truly rewarding/acknowledging jobs well done.

And I confess, once this was laid on me and I had time to digest it, I had a pretty sour, "Be careful what you pray for" bubble up inside.  As if a God who gave me the opportunity to save my life would then spend the rest of it punishing me every time I made an honest request; or would turn my open-hearted prayer into a way to 'teach me a lesson.'  Truly, that is superstition, not spirituality:  Appease the volcano God or suffer the consequences.

 

* * * * *

 

So today the challenge on Planet SponsorPants is to keep an open mind -- or rather, to keep prying it back open after it slams shut under the weight of projection and ego and fear (the usual suspects).  My years sober help me recognize these things happening to me -- and maybe fluency with the tools of AA allows me to address them more quickly -- but the years don't prevent them from occurring.

The challenge is to keep faith, and not let my spirituality slip into that subtle but simplistic superstition; that is, a loving God will always give me a good result, there is no "monkey's paw effect" at play once I have "made a decision to turn my will and my life over to the care of God as I understand God."  It is only my head, torturing me again, deciding all is ashes before I've even lit the fire.

I have to work to remember the great AA adage (we probably stole it, but I heard it in AA first), which is roughly this:  The worst things in my life never happened to me.

And finally, I have to keep my eyes open to the fact that over and over and over in my life -- and in the lives of the people in Recovery around me -- there is profound evidence that if I can approach each situation as a way for me to give rather than get, as a way to be of service, then my head straightens back out and quiets down and my heart opens back up and the little nuisances in life are just that.  Little.

 

* * * * *

 

I can get there. 

Well, I can get back there.  (Not truly there this minute.)

But it's not effortless.

Not yet.  (It'll get easier though.)

In the grand scheme of things this is hardly on the same level as bad medical news or unjust jail time or random tragedy striking.  I know that.  On a basic level it's simply one more time, things are not the way I want them to be.  It's just that as an alcoholic sometimes that can be justification for some powerful, foolish, self-destructive decisions.  I feel that part of me growling in its sleep.

So I just keep on -- we keep on -- and try not to indulge the worst parts of ourselves; try not to awaken the King Baby of Bridge Burning and Self Destruction, so I can more easily see the miracles which keep coming down the road.

That's my mantra for this morning.

 

ask for help

 

 

The 12 Step world is founded on the simple, powerful ideal of one alcoholic helping another. 

You don't have to go through anything alone.

It's okay to ask for help -- on some deep level so many alcoholics internalize the idea that asking for help is dangerous, or admitting something we don't want to confess (Hello? Ego? Is that you?), or we don't want to bother anyone (Low Self Esteem! Good to see you again!) -- that asking for help is something we must learn to do.

It is not a natural impulse.

It takes practice.

(If I find myself thinking for too long a stretch that I don't have anything I need help with then I'm either pretty complacent or flirting with some low grade denial.)

Asking for help in AA incurs no debt -- in fact, by giving someone a chance to help you, you are very much helping them.

 

dysmorphic

 

I suppose that if a wildly distorted view of your physical self can be termed body dysmorphic disorder, then it might be said that alcoholics have a kind of social dysmorphic disorder, since our view of ourselves in relation to others is also often wildly distorted and flawed.

An alcoholic mind is no picnic -- there can be a lot going on there.

you feel special

 

 

part

of

what

makes

playing

the

victim

so

seductive

is

that

it

makes

you

feel

special.

Questions via Email: Part 1 - How do you make the group your "Higher Power?"

 

Dear Mr. SponsorPants,

After [more than 25] years of drinking, I have been attending AA since [last fall] but other than [a couple of weeks over the holidays] I have not been sober consecutively. I am currently [in my first week]. I really struggle with this higher power concept. I know that I can use the group, but really, how do you turn your life and will over to a group of people. I like the meetings and doubt that I could get sober alone, but these steps seem so strange to a logical thinker like myself. Can you share anything that might help me?

J

 

Dear J,

Remember, what defines the quality of someone's recovery is not that they drank, or drank more than once, it is that they got sober again.  We each have today, and being sober today is your miracle and your triumph.  I can tell from your email you're willing and you have a great attitude -- the only two things you have to manage on your own -- so I have absolutely no doubt if you stick close you'll make it.

But your questions are good ones, and not the first (and certainly not the last) I'll hear them either on the blog or in person, so I'm very glad you brought them up.

They're so good in fact, I'm gonna make you a two-parter.

First one first:  How do you turn your life and will over to a group of people?  Or, to refine that a bit, how do you make an AA group your Higher Power?

To best answer that, I need to show you some things.  Take my hand, we're going to travel through Time and Space for a few minutes.  Ready?

**BAMF!**

J:  Where are we?

Mr. SP: Ummm, my aim isn't as precise as I like but if I ...

looks up at the night sky, checks the constellations

Mr. SP:  Yes, this is roughly the early 1800's, and we're somewhere in Texas.  See that old guy over there?

J:  By the campfire? 

Mr. SP:  Yes.  He's got something to tell us.

J and Mr. SP wander over.

Old Guy by the Campfire:  If you need space by the fire, I can share.

Mr. SP:  Thank you kindly.

Old Guy by the Campfire:  You two look a might new at this.  Remember, if you get up in the middle of the night to take a pee, shake out your bedroll before you get back into it.

J:  How come?

Old Guy:  Scorpions.  They crawl in when you get up, attracted by how warm and toasty you left the blankets.

Mr. SP:  Thanks, we've got to get going though.

Old Guy:  Suit yourselves.

**BAMF**

J: Holy...

Mr. SP:  Speak up, I can't hear you over the engines!

J:  Where...?

Mr. SP:  We're in a plane over France in... if I got it right, 1942...

J:  What the hell...?

Mr. SP:  Hang on, we need to listen to this guy...

Points to airman in camo and blackface

Airman:  I've done a hundred jumps, and you guys are new, right?  Remember, after you jump...

J:  We're going to jump?

Airman:  Pay attention!  After you get your 'chute on, we'll do some recon over the landing site and you can jump when we see the signal.  No matter how fast you think you're falling, make sure you do a slow count to 20 before you pull the ripcord... otherwise, your 'chute might tangle in the props, got it?

Mr. SP and J nod.

Mr. SP:  Got it. Uh, I mean, Got it, Sir!

**BAMF!**

J:  This is getting... where are we now?

Mr. SP:  Florida Keys.  Sometime in the '70's I think.

J:  How do you know it's the '70's if you're not very good at this? 

Mr. SP: All the paisley.

J:  What is this place? 

Mr. SP:  It's a dive school.  Shhh, here's the instructor.

Instructor walks up with a class in various scuba gear

Instructor: ... bends, which is basically when nitrogen bubbles, created by pressure at the depths we'll eventually dive to, enter the liquid in your body, and should you rise towards the surface too quickly will be forced out... very painful and possibly fatal.  What you need to do is rise at a measured pace, via a schedule which...

Mr. SP:  Okay, let's get back.

**BAMF!**

J:  What was the point of all that?

Mr. SP:  Okay, if you'd stayed by the campfire that night, back in the 1800's, and you'd gotten up to pee in the night, would you have followed that Old Guy's advice? 

J:  Well... sure.

Mr. SP:  Why?

J:  Well, he knows what he's talking about... I mean, I've never camped in a bedroll by a fire and he has so...

Mr. SP:  What about the Airman and his slow count instructions?  Would you have done that?

J:  Sure, although I'm not sure how slowly I can count when I'm jumping out of a plane. 

Mr. SP:  Me neither, actually.  But why do you believe him? 

J:  Well... he's like, a trained air force guy.  He said he'd done like a hundred jumps and so, you know, he's... he knows how to do it.  Don't think I can't see where you're going here...

Mr. SP:  Indulge me.  What about the Dive Instructor, if you were in that class, would you follow the formula he was going to lay out to avoid the bends?

J:  Yes.

Mr. SP:  Why?

J:  The bends is painful, I know that without all this rigmarole.

Mr. SP:  So you would make those guys your Higher Power?  Like you'd worship them and stuff?

J:  No, not... not worship them, that sounds weird and creepy.

Mr. SP:  So in those situations you're turning your will and your life over to them -- meaning you'll seek their counsel and follow their suggestions -- because they have experience in how to survive where you find yourself.

J:  Yeah.  Okay, yeah.

Mr. SP:  So it's not really the individual people you're turning your will and your life over to -- it's not specific people, it's their knowledge and experience of how to survive something. That's what you're surrendering to.  It's their experience which is your "Higher Power."

J: ... well... yeah.

Mr. SP:  So that's how you do it then.

J:  Do what?

Mr. SP:  Turn your will and your life over to an AA group.  You find yourself in a position equally fraught with danger and potential for pain and fatality today as you might have been in any of those other scenarios.  Only instead of scorpions and tangled 'chutes and the bends you're facing addiction and fear and ego.  And the people in the meeting have survived those same things... so what they have to tell you has value because it's based on experience -- even if the way some of them say it is colored by their own ego and such.  Just because someone's been sober a while doesn't mean they stop being a work in progress.  If the Diving Instructor turned out to be an unmitigated ass, it wouldn't invalidate the truth of what he was telling you about what the bends are, how they can harm you and what you need to do to avoid them, right?

J:  Yeah, I guess.  Yeah.

Mr. SP:  Same in an AA group.  It's not the people that you're turning your will and your life over to (they're messy and flawed as individuals, and in one way or another they always will be -- the best we get is progress)... it's their practical experience of how to stay sober, and how to apply this recovery and 12 Step information to your life, day in, day out, one day at a time.  That's what you are turning your will and life over to.  So you simply live your daily routine the way AA suggests you do, and when you hit a snag or have a question or a problem, share about it in the group and take in the suggestions which are offered.  Some people might be easier to listen to than others, but on the whole, you'll get good orderly direction.  And God knows, when I was newly sober, that's what I needed.  What my mind came up with as how to handle things was usually NOT a good plan to follow.  The only experience I had to offer myself was how to live a drinking life in active addiction.  I needed to follow the plan laid out by people who had experience NOT doing pretty much the only way I knew how to do anything.  Following their plan, and asking them for input when I was stuck, was how I first "turned my will and my life" over to AA.

J:  Oh.

 

Part 2 tomorrow...