Mr. SponsorPants

Things I learned (or was reminded of) this week. An ongoing series.

 

 

 

Not to get too "fortune cookie" on you, but sometimes the Big Change is... not to change.  To stay rooted, and deepen your practice of where you are and what you're doing.  "Grow where you're planted" is what my dead sponsor (he who's wise counsel I miss every single day) once told me.

 

Sometimes, in an AA meeting, the speaker shows up for the meeting... and sometimes, the meeting shows up for the speaker.  (Again with the fortune cookie sounding stuff!  Sorry!  But it's true.)

 

Drop the rock.  Lighten up.  If you're sober today YOU WIN.  The rest is all gravy, so stop wringing your hands and worrying about what will happen next and how to avoid screwing it all up.  Sometimes you're going to screw it all up!  It's okay.  You learn from it (or you learn from it a couple more screw ups down the road) and you don't pick up the first drink one day at a time.  After all, for me a great freedom was to realize that the Big Book states that working the 12 Steps (and the principles of AA) will "...allow us to meet calamity with serenity..."   It does not say that working the Steps and practicing the principles will allow us to avoid calamity altogether.  Hard times easy times hard times easy times again; and sometimes (often?) I am the author of much of my own hard times.  Roll with it.  We have a "design for living" which gives us the ability to find the gratitude in (almost) any scenario (if we're open and willing to see things differently), and the tools to right things when we make a mess.  Drop the rock and dance around the living room for a little while. Go on.  You'll feel better.

 

Cheers!

home again home again jiggity-jig

 

 

Wow!

A wonderful weekend of AA and Alanon speakers, meetings and workshops at the Convention (or Roundup, depending on what part of the country you're in) I was lucky enough to go to this weekend.

Much like a gust of wind to a becalmed sailboat, the Roundup was a true boost to my somewhat flagging spirits.  If you've never been to one I urge you to go.  The speakers generally have a great message, and the workshops provide special focus to things every person in recovery should be mindful of.  This convention was especially warm and charming and full of energy, sobriety and affection, and I am deeply grateful I had the opportunity to attend and participate.

 

Something I thought about on the plane home (and I didn't get patted down by TSA at either end of my journey -- is it wrong to feel slightly rejected by that?):

So often, even in sobriety, it can be negative energy which prompts us to action.  The fear, the resentment, push/pulling us out of our complacency and into forward motion.  It's not for nothing the expression is: "Pain is the touchstone of our spiritual growth."

But sitting on the plane (I can still buckle an airplane seatbelt without doing severe injury to internal organs, so there's that, too!), looking out the little window at the clouds and turning the Convention over in my mind -- savoring the various recollections of a weekend spent with a community of sober alcoholics, addicts and alanons coming together in love and service --  I felt reinvigorated and it really struck me that if we remember to open ourselves to it, the positive energy can be as motivating, as much a call to action as the negative.

So if you'll forgive the brush with grandiosity it is for me to amend a classic quotation (just a brush, Mr. SponsorPants?  My, you are doing better!):

 

Pain is the touchstone of our spiritual growth.  Yes.  But not pain alone.

Love too can call our spirits to rise and flourish and move forward with real purpose on our path;

in short, Love is an equal touchstone to our spiritual growth in recovery.

 

 

And if that sounds like pap, like treacle, to you... well, maybe it is.

Or maybe you're just afraid to believe in good things because it's safer to stay in the comfortable, stagnant, boring land of sarcasm and faux sophistication and hide behind the mask of cooler-than-you.  "Cooler-than-you" is at heart a child's evasion.  You might want to look at that.  There is courage in being willing to embrace a message of positivity and hope.  There is courage in being willing to be mocked or minimized for that -- even if the mocking and minimizing is mostly in your own head. (And could that be your alcoholism talking? Using a pitch-perfect impersonation of the voice-in-your-head which will most intimidate you, to keep you from raising your eyes to the next great place of healing for you to achieve?)

Be brave, and keep the faith in good things.

change your world

 

 

 

 

 We talk about it in various ways, both in meetings and AA literature:  Alcoholism is a disease of perception, the problem for the alcoholic centers in the mind, etc., etc.

The 12 Steps are a process which literally allows us -- via the creation of a "psychic change" or, more commonly, a spiritual experience -- to alter that null-sum equation and re-wire how we think, thus transforming our entire life.  Yes, we become free from alcohol -- but eventually sobriety becomes so much more.  Lived with willingness and depth, a life of sobriety via AA is like a release from prison, or walking away from a wheelchair, or finally breathing free.

 

But to get there, I had to admit (Step alert!) and address the problem.

As is so often the case with me, what I believe the problem to be is not the problem at all.  Ironically, ultimately, the problem was not my drinking.

The problem was my thinking.

And to believe I could solve that problem on my own is believing that I could solve the problem with the problem.

That's... not a good plan.

 

we pine

 

 

 

 

Without gratitude

my take on my life

is pretty much bullshit,

since it's stained with entitlement, wildly unrealistic expectations and self involvement.

(Which, as toxic as they are, can be quite subtle, sometimes.)

Alcoholics don't own these things of course -- but alcoholism uses them as the building blocks of profoundly twisted thinking -- all in the service of getting us alone,

then getting us thinking only of ourselves,

then getting us drunk,

then getting us dead.

 

Like  the yeast in bread dough,

gratitude is the essential ingredient to

make my spirits rise

above my petty, "poor-me's"

and break free of alcoholic thinking.

 

Without gratitude,

real happiness

may always elude an alcoholic.

 

having it all

 

 

 

 

 

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.

 

10 absolutely true things about my AA experience

 

 

1.  Working the 12 Steps changed me -- profoundly -- for the better; and it continues to do so.

2.  AA's focus on service has given me a way of looking at the world which opens my heart on a daily basis -- and that is a powerful antidote to becoming embittered by life, as I feel how easy it is to keep the heart shuttered as I grow older.

3.  AA Meetings are often (not always, but very often) a place which renews my faith in people and in something Good in the universe -- and some speakers and some who shared have given me some of the biggest belly laughs I have ever had.

4.  AA has taught me to be a good listener.

5.  Sponsorship -- both sides of the coin -- has taught me what a privilege it is to set ego aside in an effort to help people -- and it feels like a privilege -- and what a powerful catalyst for personal change that can be.

6.  AA has given me friendships which endure.

7.  AA gives me a safe place to go when I am troubled or I make mistakes.

8.  The practical advice I've been given in AA serves me in all areas of my life.

9.  Watching people in AA face life's challenges -- some of the toughest -- has taught me what real dignity and courage look like.

10.  AA has shown me that my past is not my future -- that there is no expiration date on the promise of reinventing myself, or starting over, or on God's Grace in my life.

 

 

I'm a tough stick

 

I sat up straight, both arms out, two cotton balls already taped to the inside of each elbow.  He came at me with the needle again.

I was giving blood.

But unfortunately I'm not very good at it. 

I am, as they say in the phlebotomy business, a "tough stick."

I inherited many qualities from my father. Among them apparently were very small veins.  After trying to get blood from both arms they were going to go for a hand.  Fortunately although I am an easy scare in the movies I'm as stony as a Roman Stoic when it comes to people sticking me with needles.  I'd have been a fabulous junkie if I wasn't too lazy and too chickenshit.  (Liquor stores and bars are just so much more convenient!  But I digress.)

Ordinarily in these situations I suspect the medical personnel keep a running patter going to help distract people and keep them calm.  In this case I was the one pattering as my sticker was getting more upset and apologetic that he couldn't get me stuck.

His associate walked in.  I know her from previous visits.

"Hey Mr. SponsorPants.  Nice haircut."

"Thanks.  New year, new hair I figured.  Plus, well, as a gentleman of a certain age, maybe it's time for me to permanently give up the 'I'm growing my hair long' fantasy.  Gandalf? Heroic!  Dumbledore?  Indubitably!  Me?  Maybe not so much."

"Ugh, I should give my father your email."  This from the young man desperately, gently, probing the back of my hand for someplace to poke me again.  "He wants to be a musician so he's grown his hair long and wears it in a ponytail.  It's like this long, white... thing hanging off the back of his head."

"Oh, no.  No, don't do that to him."  I said.  It just slipped out!  Honest!

He looked at me, more curious than insulted. (Thank God. He was, after all, holding the needle.) "What do you mean?"

In for a penny...

"Well, it's... it's not easy getting older.  And he's reviving a dream, being a musician, right?  Reinventing himself.  Don't make fun of his ponytail.  Maybe it's a symbol for him of his youth, or being an artist.  Maybe look at it as a brave thing your dad is trying.  Tell him it'll grow on you."

He shrugged.  "Well, that's another way to look at it.  Listen, do you want me to keep on trying or..."

"No, no, it's cool.  Next time I'll come earlier and I'll drink more water."

I gave them some coupons for my restaurant -- enough for themselves and the rest of the volunteers and staff (marketing!) and headed out. 

I thought about what I'd said and I was a little aghast.  Where do I get off?  I replayed it all in my head and it sounded either pompous or crazy or some horrible combination of both. 

Walking down the sidewalk, I thought about how different my drummer is sometimes.  I'm doing more writing lately and it seems to have given a new tint to the lens of my self examination.  I'm not being critical, exactly, but the distance between my reactions and my attitudes vs. those of my fellow humans suddenly feels pretty wide, on occasion.

But also that same newer viewpoint is showing me (I think) the result of a life in AA.  (It's been half my life now, roughly speaking).  How AA has shaped me.  I know for a fact that my knee jerk reaction to what that guy said about his dad, about being supportive rather than not, is the direct result of sponsorship.  Of trying to help people see the recovery -- the good -- in themselves, and not just the addiction.

I like that.  I like that guy -- even if sometimes that guy has things unspool out of his mouth in these unasked for, grandiose little nuggets.  But who knows, maybe he'll give his dad a break.  It's a little thing, and nobody asked me, but it's not a bad thing, either.

I'll be coming up on a sober anniversary soon (not very soon, but soon) and around this time I usually become more aware of how AA has shaped me.  Sort of like "It's A Wonderful Life" but in reverse.

It keeps coming back to gratitude, I guess.

And, even with a new tint on the lens I'm using to look at myself, that's a nice place to keep coming back to.

 

The things you take for granted

 

 

 

 

we decide what we see

 

 

 

 

Just as it's possible to cultivate an attitude of gratitude

(God sometimes that phrase can grate -- but it is a powerful thing if I can get past that reaction)

it's also true that I can shift my perception to really see the good around me.

This is not the same as being willfully blind to hard truths, rather,

it's making the conscious decision not to let the fear

which "ugly" things can spark

distract me from the uplifting, beautiful reality of a life lived free of addiction.

A life of gratitude, service and thus, purpose.

A life in sobriety truly happy, joyous and free.

 

A life which can be created by anyone willing to work all 12 Steps.