Mr. SponsorPants

At work: Just a week or so ago...

 

 

Just a week or so ago...

 

"So then she told me I should quit my job right away and check in to a rehab."  She was sitting in the office, telling me of her experiences in meetings and the beginning of her search for a sponsor.  And she was clearly troubled by some of what she was hearing from people.

"Well I'm glad you didn't, I'd miss working with you and I'd have a helluva time finding someone to fill out the schedule on short notice."  I replied.  She got the intended humor and gave a soft, rye chuckle.

"But really, that kind of stuff freaks me out -- and I don't want someone too controlling!"

I could hear both the real fear and the manufactured drama in her statement.

"May I offer some thoughts on this whole thing?"  When I had my boss hat on I didn't ask permission to offer anything.  I just gave it.  I gave guidance, information or instructions about work.  But when I had this other, harder-to-put-a-name-to-but-clearly-not-a-boss hat on I was in the habit of asking before volunteering anything.  We were sitting in the office and I was counting out the cash drawers while she waited to clock in -- she who used to have trouble getting to work on time and now seemed to come in a little early perhaps just to have this time to talk.

"Sure."

"Well," I made little piles of change as I spoke; clink-clink-clink, and we both looked at the coins as I stacked them. "The suggestion seems pretty extreme on the surface.  But I think maybe you should consider the spirit of what they were trying to say."

"The spirit of it."  She sounded a little doubtful.

"Yes.  If you were diagnosed with 3rd Stage Scary Disease Number 5, and to save your life you needed to get medical treatment right away, you'd pretty much drop everything and get that treatment, yes?"

She considered it.  "Well... yes."

"So," now I made piles of singles, 25 per pile, and paperclipped each pile together "the spirit of this suggestion is that the self diagnosis of alcoholism is equally serious, and should be equally attention getting, and treated with the same level of urgency.  Even if what they said seems -- to both of us, I might add -- maybe a little extreme, the spirit of this suggestion is worthwhile.  This is serious, life-or-death business, and you would be wise to treat it as such."

"Okay.  That makes sense."

Money is dirty.  I looked at the grunge accumulating on my fingers in disgust as I went on to count out the fives, tens and twenties into their own bundles.

She began tearing open the deposit bags for me and sticking labels on them as we chatted.  "Right. Okay.  But it freaks me out when people are so... I don't want anyone too controlling.  It makes me not want to..." she trailed off, knowing by now my opinion on the importance of going to meetings.

"I understand.  But look," I said, filling out the little log and writing in how much change I wanted my opening Shift Leader to order from the bank, "say you went into a bar, and the bartender was a real asshole; intense and weird and trying to tell you where to sit or what to drink or whatever.  Would you say, 'Wow, that bartender is a controlling freak!  Because I met them I am never going to go to a bar again!'"

She giggled a little at the thought, which was what I was hoping for.  "No!"

"Okay," I stopped fussing with the banking and put my hands in my lap and looked at her directly, "then maybe that's what you should do with AA.  There are going to be a lot of people who, in their zeal to be helpful to you, might initially come across as 'too much' for you.  That's ok, but to use them as a reason not to go back to meetings is as silly and nonsensical as giving up going to bars because of some intense encounter with a bartender."

She smiled, "That makes sense, actually."

"Yes, it does.  My experience is that going to AA meetings saved my life.  I went to two a day for probably the first whole year."  (It was probably two a day for a couple of years, but I didn't want to slide myself into the 'Too Much' Column for her.)

"I'm going to two a day right now."  This offered in a small voice.

"Well, in my humble opinion that's wonderful, and I hope you keep on.  How do you feel?"

"Better, actually."

"Can I ask...?"

"9.  9 whole days sober."

"That. Is. Fan. Tastic.  Can I give you a hug?"  There's a camera in the office, and surely, if someone were to watch us in playback it might be an odd thing to see, but right at that moment I didn't give one flying eff.

She smiled big.  "Sure." We were of an age, and a hug between us was clearly a hug between friends, an AA hug and nothing more. I gave her a quick hug and then she pulled her string of Welcome Chips out of her pocket -- I was charmed to see she carried them with her like that -- I'd done the same thing -- and we chatted and cracked wise a little more before she started her shift.

I didn't want to say anything to her yet, but she was already... different.  One of the kids at work mentioned it to me the other night in fact, independant of my own observation.  A light was coming on in her eyes.  Her posture was changing.  Certainly this is in no small part due to the physiological effect of detoxing from chronic alcohol abuse -- the body is a marvelous mechanism and given a chance to heal will do so with speed and power.  But there was more to it as well.  I'd seen it before in others getting sober in AA.  We never notice a difference in ourselves -- not for a long time anyway -- but it is apparent to the people around us.  Spiritual healing is as visible, as palpable, as real as physical healing.  And that's what was beginning to take root in her.

'God puts people together for a reason' is something I've quoted to many sponsees.  (If there's a God, and today I vote yes, there Is.)

God creates an opportunity to be of service, for one alcoholic to help another be in the middle of AA's lifeboat, stay sober, and in virtually every way change their lives for the better.

I knew in my heart that this was another one of those opportunities.

But let me be absolutely clear about one thing in this:  The person being helped, being saved, being centered in the middle of the lifeboat and getting the chance to change for the better isn't her.

It's me.

 

fear and prayer: redux

 

 

I want prayer to work like

a shot of Jaegermeister works:  Pretty damn instantaneously.

(The truth is, a shot of just about anythingmeister works on me pretty quick.)

Prayer has, on occasion, had an effect as timely as it is tangible -- generally a mellowing, balancing kind of thing -- but that's often not what I really want. 

 

I want blue and white beams of light to come shooting out of my eyeballs.

 

I want to feel instantly and dramatically different -- with maybe a sort of spiritual build-up and crescendo culminating in the same kind of transformation which changed humble Diana Prince into super powerful va-va-voom Wonder Woman, able to thwart evil-doers in what was essentially a patriotic Victoria's Secret bodice.

When I'm really in fear, that's what I want prayer to be like.

But just because it's not often like that,

doesn't mean it's not working the way it's supposed to.

Gotta remember that.

 

 

At work: Several Weeks Ago...

 

Several Weeks Ago...

 

There was a problem with the fax machine, and although in this age of iGadgets and Tablet technology a fax sounds charmingly old school, the fact was that we use it quite a bit, so a problem with the fax was a problem I needed to fix.

I muttered and tinkered and cursed, and finally figured that it was potentially a problem on the phone line, which led me to call the phone company and begin climbing up the long tree of automated prompts to get to speak to a live person.

"If you are an existing ATT customer, Press 1. If you are a new customer, Press 2.  Para espanol, selecte nueve."

I pressed 1, and climbed from the first branch of the prompt tree to the next, thinking to myself that I should have gotten a fresh cup of coffee before starting this ascent.

"If this call is regarding Home Service Press 1.  For Business Accounts, Press 2."

And so on.

What seemed like twenty but was more likely no more than ten minutes later I was closing in on a live tech. (I'd already tried jabbing the zero button and the pound button repeatedly to get kicked to a live person, but the Prompt Tree was not so easily thwarted.)

"For technical support, please stay on the line, a technician will be with you shortly."

Finally! 

And then the door of the office burst open.

"Look!" she said, half in triumph, half in defiance.  She thrust her hands out in front of me.

"Please stay on the line, your call is important to us.  A technician will be with you shortly."

"Oh. Um. Wow?"  I wasn't sure what I was supposed to be looking at.

"This is what two days without a drink looks like."  Belatedly I noticed that her hands were shaking.

"Wait, what?" I was dumfounded.  She knew I was in AA (most of work now knew I didn't drink, but that was the extent of it) because she had overheard some of my friends talking to me -- discreetly -- but since she'd taken a pass at recovery herself several years ago she knew enough of the language to put two and two together and come up with sober.

"Yes.  I... I haven't had a drink in two days."

"And you've got the shakes?!?  My God, how much have you..."

"Please stay on the line, your call is important to us, a technician will be with you shortly."

We'd talked about different issues once she'd found out I was in recovery.  It's not the first time at a job I've found myself walking the delicate line between co-worker (supervisor) and 12 Stepper, so this wasn't entirely uncharted territory.

(At almost every job I've ever had, from the beginning of my sobriety, there's always one alcoholic or addict or something placed on my path -- once I worked for someone who was a bulimarexic, which means that she starved herself, and the one cracker or whatever she would allow herself in a given week she would then try and throw up.  She was a good boss though.  Except for her propensity to faint.  And leave clumps of hair in the break room.)

All of which is to say that I have had practice in balancing my spiritual journey with my career path  --  I swear, I don't go looking for it.  I'd rather be a quiet example of sobriety when I'm on the clock than get all involved in 12th Stepping.  But when the Universe gives me a Cue... what's a sober guy to do?  As Alcoholics Anonymous' Responsibility Declaration states:  "I am responsible.  When anyone, anywhere, reaches out for help I want the hand of AA always to be there.  And for that, I am responsible."

So she started telling me her story -- or, the most recent chapter of it.  Which began with the fact that she's got a long drive home from work, and had apparently been buying a bottle of wine to drink on the way.  (Atta girl!)  And then once home... so these shakes were the real deal.

"If you've got the shakes then you should really look into maybe a medically supervised..."

"Please stay on the line, your call is important to us.  A technician will be with you shortly."

Damn I should hang up. This is important.  But I'd been caught completely off guard, and had some resentments about work on simmer in my psychic kitchen and to be honest I was... it was a curve ball I didn't want... I just didn't want to have one more damn thing to manage, especially...

"Please stay on the line, your call is important to us.  A technician will be with you shortly."

"I was hoping" she looked down "maybe you could suggest some meetings or..."

I sighed inside. 

"Please stay on the line..." I heard a human voice interrupt the recording. "Hello, thank you for calling ATT Technical Support, my name is Daniel, how can I assist you?"

I could climb the tree again.  Have a cup of coffee while I was at it, too.

"Thank you, Daniel, but I'll have to call back."  I put the phone gently in its cradle.  "Of course I can.  Do you have a Meeting Directory?" 

I know it's all a little pat.  I don't blame you for thinking I might be making some of this up.  'fraid not. 

I reached into my bag -- and it was too cute that I'd bought a new Directory at the last meeting I'd been to.  So funny, that Higher Power.  Such a Card.  "Here's where all the little abreviations are explained, like a Closed Meeting or Open, or a Women's Meeting or whatever..."  I gave her the Directory after we highlighted a few meetings and dog eared a page or two.

I can handle one more thing at work.  I have a lot on my plate, but I also have a Primary Purpose (look it up.)  It's not my solitary purpose, but it is my Primary one.

And because...

Because if I pray to be of service, if I pray for God to use me as God will, then it's a little counter productive to not actually be of service when called upon to do so.

Because when I was newly sober, with my own hands shaking from detox, everyone I met in AA made me feel like helping me was the most important thing in the world to them -- and that it was no trouble at all.

Because I know a little about this person -- we're of an age, and have had some issues on the job -- and I know a little about alcoholism, and I know what it costs to ask the only person you know in AA for help in connecting with AA.  And at that moment I was likely the only person they knew who was in AA. 

Because when anyone, anywhere, reaches out for help, I want the hand of AA to be there.

And for that, I am responsible.

 

.

when I am without a spiritual solution

 

 

I am here to report, it still doesn't work...

 

 

 

Every so often -- thanks to AA not too often any more -- but once in a while, I have to try this again.

I am here to report, it still doesn't work.

Onward!

 

The Algebra of Recovery: A Theoretical Progression. Reblogged by request.

 

 

 

Anger x Self Obsession = Resentment
  
Resentment + Entitlement = Justification

Justification - [(Fellowship + Sharing) OR (Sponsorship + Full Disclosure)] = Relapse

 

 

turned out to be

 

 

Some of the worst things that ever happened to me

have turned out to be

some of the best things that ever happened to me.

 

(So "in the moment" -- when the moment really, really sucks -- take heart.

You just never know.)

The simplest way to "live by spiritual principles:"

 

 

 

 

 

Origin Unknown: The Old Timer's Prayer

 

 

Old Timer's Prayer

  

Lord, keep me from the habit of thinking I must say something on every subject and on every occasion.

Release me from the craving to straighten out everybody's affairs.

Keep my mind free from the recital of endless details - give me wings to get to the point.

I ask for the grace to listen to the tales of others pains.  Help me to endure them in patience.

But seal my lips on my own aches and pains -- they are increasing, and my love of rehearsing them is becoming sweeter as the years go by.

Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally it is possible that I may be mistaken.

Keep me reasonably sweet.  I do not want to be a saint -- some of them are so hard to live with -- but becoming a bitter old timer would be one of the crowning works of my alcoholism.

Give me the ability to see good things in unexpected places and talents in unexpected people.

And give me, O Lord, the grace to tell them so.

Make me thoughtful, but not moody;  helpful, but not bossy.

With my vast store of wisdom, it seems a pity not to use it all - but Thou knowest, Lord, that I want a few friends in the end.

 

(Yes, I may possibly have tweaked this a tiny bit to make it more on point, but I don't think "Unknown" will mind.)

spoilers

 

 

 

(as long as I stay sober, one day at a time)