Mr. SponsorPants

I regret to inform you

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

it dismayed me

 

 

it struck me

it dismayed me

actually

when I realized how I

still

build an

entire mythology around

my character defects;

around the way I think

and my attitudes.

this huge web of rationalizations and

unexamined beliefs. 

assumptions

about the world and about

myself; that make it so I 

have to

need to

want to

behave and think the way I do.

it's not just my fear and ego

(though they always have a part).

it also has the 

stink

(and power)

of old 

habits.

 

still a work in progress.

some days I feel the progress.

some days I feel the work.

 

 

 

 

runners and fighters

 

 

 

runners and fighters are two sides of the same coin

(but you knew that already).

both are reacting to fear

by lashing out or getting out.

fighters get to brag a little, though.

it's kind of cool to be scrappy,

until of course you attack the people

closest to you.

 

I think runners

have some shame around

the run.

 

people make movies about fighters.

these movies have "hell YEAH!" moments.

 

when there's a movie about a runner the story is a pitiable one,

mostly.

 

unless the runner turns into a fighter.

then it's "hell YEAH!"

 

and sure, sometimes fighters run and sometimes

vice versa.

but most of us have a pattern ingrained over our

panic button.

 

after writing the inventories and

talking to sponsors and listening to

shares and sharing the stuff

ourselves we eventually see some sad truths for alcoholic

runners and fighters:

the runners leave places they would choose to stay in if they

had the ability to choose

(instead of being driven. all flight no fight)

 

and the fighters are lost in

distracting

compensating

battle with people who often aren't even

there anymore.

 

they're not even fighting the

people they think they're fighting.

 

maybe it's time to stop.

 

 

 

A triptych on ego from A Course in Miracles

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

no April Fool's jokes today...

often,

the most challenging,

difficult,

painful,

intractable

resentments

are the ones we hold

against ourselves.

 

they're so much more than

woulda coulda shoulda.

they're a deep,

disappointed awareness

of long held behaviors,

lifelong shortcomings,

and deeply grooved

character traits

which symbolize

(sometimes quite accurately)

ways in which we are not 

strong or

sound

or capable.

(because somewhere inside

is still the belief that we should

always always be

strong, sound and capable.

always.)

 

what kind of inventory

can we write, when we

resent ourselves?

after all,

my part IS

what I resent...

 

first, we must remember that

just because we think we

know whatever it is we

think we know,

doesn't mean we know very much.

for me,

putting pen to paper has never,

EVER

failed to reveal some new insight

or offer fresh perspective.

(especially if I remove my

spiritual dirty diaper

and approach the page with as

open a mind as I'm able.)

 

then I try hard

to remember that

I am no less deserving of

forgiveness than anyone.

(and then I shut down the

part of me which shouts

"stop making excuses!"

after all, what am I supposedly

making excuses for?

being flawed? being human?

I am and I am

is all.)

self examination is

not about self

abuse. its objective is not merely

to find more ammo for the

self-hate machine.

(you think your hybrid gets good mileage?

you should check under the hood of that baby.

runs forever on just a few drops of

self-centered fear and

ingratitude.)

 

which reminds me,

the solution is the same,

whether I resent you,

me, or conjured fantasies and

imagined scenarios

(since I'm as likely to resent things that have never

and probably will never

happen as I am to resent anyone or

anything else).

 

the solution is

service and gratitude and

healthy action

(often contrary action)

and whether I

"feel like it" or not

makes absolutely not

one

bit

of

difference

to its effectiveness.

 

willingness does not mean

"want to."

 

wallow or recover.

grow or go.

same old choice, really,

to go with my

same old

solutions.

 

 _________________________________________________________________ 

  There are more essays like this one in "Mr. SponsorPants: Adventures in Sobriety and The 12 Steps for AA's and Others."  Available as an eBook via Amazon.

 

you are perfectly welcome to

 

 

 

 

It is interesting, I think, how much we struggle sometimes

against submitting to

direction or

suggestion or

an idea of God or

the requested guidance from a

sponsor or

the ideas contained in a

program of recovery.

It is interesting, because

we were so very

obedient

to our addictions.

 

There is nothing to defy.

Take the suggestion or don't.

You are perfectly welcome to keep your

shitty little addict life

if you want.

WHOOSH

 

 

I said a long prayer last night.

I said "I surrender."

 

I said "I surrender again."

I said, lying in my bed,

in the dark,

to the dark,

because that's what prayer feels like sometimes,

it feels like you're just

talking out loud in the dark

to the dark.

(The first impediment to authentic faith: Mocking the process. I always get my back foot caught trying to clear that hurdle.)

 

I said

"I surrender again. Really. I can't. Here. Take it."

And I began reading from The List In My Head.

 

The List contains all the things that I want

to surrender but

I am afraid to.

The List is like a collection of fears and doubts about

all the stuff

I can't live without

or think I have to have,

that I have to figure out

how to keep or get

"if I only manage well."

 

It doesn't help

or it doesn't matter

that the list is reasonable:

health shelter sustenance the ability to

make my way in the world yet again.

"I surrender. Again."

I want to use The List's very reasonableness as a bargaining chip,

something like,

"Come on, it's not like I'm asking for THIS, I'm just asking for this,

and thus

You should accommodate me."

Apparently that's not how it works because

if it did I would have been

well accommodated

long ago.

 

And also

apparently,

performance art surrender,

the surrender which contains the tiny hidden tumor of

manipulation,

The "Okay, okay, NOW I surrender.

So... since I did... now I get what I'm asking for, yes?"

that doesn't work, either,

apparently.

Because if it did, well,

see above.

 

So I lay there in the dark, and I closed my eyes,

and I paused in my List to let all the

weird purple swirls behind my eyelids

fade away

and then I pictured an altar with a fire.

A pyre.

And I went down the List, and with each item I said

"Take it. Take it." and I fed it to the fire.

 

"I'm afraid I'll lose the apartment, and I'll have to move, or worse, but... Your will be done. Take it. Take it."

and WHOOSH I fed it into the fire.

"The job interview. Even just... the job... Your will be done. Take it. Take it."

WHOOSH I fed it to the fire.

"My bum foot... my health... Your will take it take it."

WHOOSH fed to the fire.

"My relationship. Your will. Take it."

WHOOSH Fire.

The long list of petty and grand fears and hopes and expectations and then

more fears.

"Your will. Your will."

"Okay."

WHOOSH

"Take it."

WHOOSH

WHOOSH

WHOOSH.

 

My spirituality can slide pretty easily into superstition, which is just the frightened part of me trying to find the recipe for how to get God to do what I want. Along with that is the fear that if I surrender something -- truly surrender it -- then the worst possible outcome -- the outcome I fear most -- has now been given cosmic "permission" to manifest.

Which is not just trying to manipulate God, it's trying to play God too.

 

It would be so great to be able to write here,

to share with you,

that after this burning prayer I felt that "great clean wind of a mountain top blowing through and through."

An impact sudden and profound.

But my List is long, (I can be very frightened, sometimes)

and I fell asleep as I offered it,

WHOOSH WHOOSH hush

hush

and dreamed of clean flames and great love and things I won't share here.

 

It was the first good night's sleep in a while.

And I felt a lot better in the morning.

Make of it what you will.

I know what I believe.

 

 

 _________________________________________________________________

 

 There are more writings like this in "Mr. SponsorPants: Adventures in Sobriety and The 12 Steps for AA's and Others."  Available as an eBook via Amazon.

 

one of the ego's favorite strategies

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There are two kinds of people...

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ultimately, I don't think the second kind are going to be too happy with how things work out.

 

not their job