The Last Chance Texaco

Posts Tagged ‘Unity’

That was a more emotional weekend than I expected. I learned all kinds of things about my grandmother that I never knew; saw pictures of her I had never seen. It was clear from looking at them that she was as happy or happier in the last ten years of her life than she had been since she was a girl. She has suffered a crippleing illness in her 50s that disfigured and left her with almost no use of one leg. She spent months in the hospital and afterward suffered terrible depression. Her faith carried her through that and ultimately her faith was the most important thing in her life.

She was the least envious person I have ever known. There will be no estate sale at my grandmothers house. She had already distributed her treasured possessions, of which there were few, and she lived austerely. For example, she had never in her life bought a new set of measuring cups. She was still using the set she had received as a wedding present.

It was interesting to go to AA meetings in Idaho Falls. The two I attended were “podium meetings.” I’ve never had to go to the front of the room to a microphone to share in a meeting, and of course, because I was a visitor, I was called on to share both nights. Fortunately I’ve learned how to share in a meeting, to stay on topic, to share MY experience in a general way and to share about the solution. I’m pretty sure I was on the mark because nearly every person who shared after made specific reference to something I had said. It was great to have the presence I hoped to bring to my family carry over to the meeting.

Even though the circumstances weren’t great, it was wonderful to see my dad. That is something I never thought I’d say. The greatest gift I have received in sobriety is the relationship I have with my father now. It’s good to be home. It’s good to be with my kitten (who’s leg is much better). It was good to go to one of the meetings here tonight.

Tommy: Have you accepted Jesus Christ as your personal Lord and Saviour?
Hedwig: No, but I… I love his work.

John Cameron Mitchell, Hedwig and the Angry Inch

I don’t want to make this about religion because it isn’t about religion. It’s about the same thing everything else here is about. Me. It’s what it was like, what happened (and what’s happening), and what it’s like now. For me. It is my experience, my strength and my hope. It is also a place where I can sit down, slow down, cool down and give the loving Creator of my own understanding room to go to work. It is part inventory, part meditation, all reaching out.

My story is not unique by any stretch. Young men from my home town have gone down similar, almost identical paths. I don’t know all the specifics of Troy’s story but I know he grew up in a similar environment, one fought with pressure to conform to the dominant culture. I can only hope that there was more tollerance in 2006 than in the 70′s and 80′s, when I was his age. In my own case, by the time I was 14 years old I had developed a concrete intellectual bias against every system of thinking which claimed to be the only truth. I carried that bias into every part of my life, judging things which I had never examined.

In my own experience, gaining hope in the second step that a “Power greater than myself” could restore me to sanity, and then gaining enough faith to turn my will and life over to the care of that power, as I understood it, was only possible because the message was delivered to me in a way that I could hear. The men who guided me left the specifics of their own conception of a Higher Power at the door, and instead shared what happened that made them willing to seek that relationship and what that relationship had done for them. At no point did they ever tell me that they had the one truth. They carried the message by strictly adhering to the instructions on page 93 of the book Alcoholics Anonymous which says, among other things, that I could choose any conception of a Higher Power I liked, as long as it made sense to me, and that there was no use arousing any prejudice I may have against theological terms. I was willing to believe in something, so long as you didn’t tell me what to believe.

The meetings I attend most regularly have now been completely invaded by a group of not very Christlike Jesus people who call on themselves to share at meeting level to watch out in the rooms of AA. “There are forces of darkness in these rooms that are marking Christians and taking them out of here.” If you point out to them that there is a way we do things in AA and a reason that we do it they just say, “Then we’ll disagree.” If you call attention to the fact that when they share the way they share, that newcomers and young people get up and leave the meeting, visibly upset; that the way they are sharing does not help to carry the message, they say that they are merely sharing the truth as they understand it.

The program, however, has nothing to do with looking at them, with judging them, and everything to do with looking at me. What part of me is so prideful that I need to be ‘right’ on this point? What within me makes me refuse to accept these people as they are? What is the origin of the blind spot in my faith that makes me think that as a group, the 2nd Tradition won’t see us through this or that the people being driven from the rooms won’t find their way back when the time is right? What am I so afraid of that I cannot seem to find it within myself to treat these people with the same pity, patience and tolerance with which I treat people who can’t stay sober or people to only identify as addicts or people who talk about taking steps they have never taken. Why do I only see that they are not helping the program rather than seeing that the program could help them?

In my 5th step my sponsor pointed out that he though I had a lot more work to do in the area of God and religion. I actually blew him off. “No. Really. I’m so completely OK with all that,” I told him.

No. Really I’m not.

“Patience is the companion of wisdom.”
-Saint Augustine

This is the other photo I purchased, taken in 1998 in Florence. I love it and think of it as symbolic of my HP. He serenely observes the clown and the child learning under his watchful eye. He allows them free will. He is there when, or if, they come to him. It has been my experience that He is always waiting patiently for me to seek Him.

Part of seeking, of course, the way we do it in recovery, is sharing our stories and I have been asked by other hearts to share part of mine. Rod and Bobbie both had questions and I am grateful to finally able to answer them.

1. The rules of the game get posted at the beginning.
2. Each player answers the questions about themselves.
3. At the end of the post, the player then tags 5 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know they’ve been tagged and asking them to read your blog.

1. What was I doing 10 years ago.

Trying to get sober. I was on my 2nd of 5 years of probation for grand theft, having stolen something like $3000 from a family member. Some of it covered my bail when I was arrested for drunk driving. The rest of it I drank. I worked for Adecco/TAD Technical services testing printers at Hewlett-Packard.

2. What are 5 things on my ‘to do’ list today?

Spend some quality time with a sponsee.
Take a hike up Hull’s Gulch
Buy groceries.
Call my counselor at Vocational Rehabilitation
Go to a meeting.

3. Snacks I enjoy.

I’m not much of a snacker – but I do love a little pear/walnut/blue cheese on a cracker or a good fig tepenade.

4. Things I would do if I were a billionaire.

a. Expatriate
b. To Italy
c. Where I’d buy a rape and sunflower (seed oil) farm and
d. put in a swimming pool which I’d then fill with
e. Italian boys and
f. David Archuleta

and I would
g. help some young men who, like me, were thrown away by their families, forced into a world they were not prepared for, deprived of an education, deprived of love and guidance, and deprived of the future they had counted on all their lives. because of their sexual orientation. (I have no idea how exactly I’ll accomplish this – it may be a scholarship fund or it may be a more personal project.)
h. Build a theater arts colony – provide space, resources, a stipend, etc. for young talent. \

5. Five bad habits.

Interrupting.
Judging.
Staying up past my bedtime.
Becoming immobilized by fear.
Falling in love with whatever is exactly wrong for me.

6. 5 places I have lived.

Idaho Falls, Idaho
Logan, Utah
Kolstorp, Sweden
San Pedro, California

7. 5 jobs I’ve had.

Cleaned guns at a pawn shop after school.
Window dresser for a women’s clothing store.
Answering service PBX operator
Screen extra/stand-in on Knot’s Landing
Florist.

and finally

8. Five people I’d like to know better, but whom, out of respect and understanding have absolutely NO expectation whatsoever that they will participate,  let alone perpetrate the meme retro-virus/cancer.  To paraphrase the book, cessation of meeming is but a step away from a highly strained and abnormal way of blogging.

Sweet Pea,
Dirty Dishes,
Raanch Dude,
Martha, and
Joe

Now enough of the memes for awhile please unless they are only one question. OK. Right. Love you guys. Talk to you later. Peace out.

There is a light at the end of the tunnel.
The light is not an illusion.
The tunnel is.
-unknown

I noticed this sign above the door of a meeting I occasionally go to and it just struck me. It seemed profound enough, but it wasn’t till I woke up this morning and read Sweet Pea’s post where she said, “secrets. they thrive in the darkest recesses of my mind and heart,” that I began to see the truth in the idea that the tunnel is an illusion.

I don’t know very many people, even the most spiritual or religious people, who come into the rooms of recovery, that have something resembling a useful and healthy relationship with a power greater than themselves that they understand to be infinite love. That was definitely true for me. I came in with a pretty traditional Judeo-Christian understanding of the Celestial Father, the one I hear some people call the ‘bearded, bean counting, lightning bolt throwing bastard in the sky’. Sure, He was loving and merciful to those who groveled for his forgiveness, but there were things he wouldn’t forgive and I was pretty sure it was me – radical faggot political activist drug addicted rebel that I am. In the difference I perceived between me and everything else I perceived darkness and isolation.

Though it was never said in so many words, I was under the impression that God didn’t like little boys who wanted to grow up to be Mahalia Jackson and to bury their face in Parker Stevenson’s arm pit, which is a shame, really. People like me especially need God. In a world where getting love and acceptance from the closest members of your family is problematic, God can mean the difference between life and death. As a youngster I didn’t understand that my church turning it’s back on me was not the same as God turning His back on me and I responded in kind. I turned my back on God and began to move farther into the illusion of separateness from All that Is.

I realize now that experiencing this separation is part of the human condition; that “our stories align at the core, if not in the sorry details.” The book talks about alcoholics and addicts being extreme examples of living according to this illusion. It talks about self-will run riot, of problems being of our own making and arising in our selves, of a spiritual malady that centers in our minds. It also suggests that people like me reaching out for help need to choose between God being everything or nothing; at a certain point we have to accept spiritual help if we are to recover.

Many forms of spiritual instruction and many forms of religion inform my journey, one of them recently being A Course in Miracles. I am attracted to the course largely because at it’s core it talks about what we talk about in AA and in similar, almost identical, terms. It talks about God being everything. It says that what blocks us from God is a barrier created out of our own mind. It says “a cloud does not put out the sun.”

The tunnel is an illusion.

The light is not.

The tunnel is made out of me. “Above everything, we alcoholics must be rid of this selfishness. We must, or it kill us!”

I found God in AA. I found God when I was finally “beaten into a state of reasonableness”; when I finally got still enough to listen. And that is where I continue to find Him; in the quiet space in between the demands of living a “productive” life in the material world. Demands on my time have increased and finding, or setting aside, enough time to get still has been challenging recently. I experience it as anxiety, frustration, sadness. I experience it as separation; as the tunnel. I wonder what people want from me and I wonder how my needs will be met. I forget that the real question is “what does God expect from me?”

As you already know, I am not particularly Christian. The God I have come to know through AA is described to me most perfectly in Hindu tradition as “the unchanging, infinite, immanent, and transcendent reality which is the Divine Ground of all matter, energy, time, space, being, and everything beyond in this Universe.” But the symbolism of Easter is not lost on me. It really is the sacrifice of self that leads to eternal life, freedom from bondage, salvation and enlightenment.

Happy Easter, friends.

Tag. I’m it. I’m going to say that this is out of regard for Erin over at What Winners Do but this time the meme is all about me though so, I’ll play along.

The Rules:

• Post 5 links to 5 of your previously written posts. The posts have to relate to the 5 key words : family, friend, yourself, your love, anything you like.
• Tag 5 other friends to do this meme. Try to tag at least 2 new acquaintances so that you get to know them each a little bit better.

So, without further kvetching, let’s get this over with quickly. Just leave the money on the dresser on your way out.

1. Family: a little post about a family reunion.
   or this post about Fun Games I Learned from My Mother.
2. Friend: when I ran into a friend at Walmart just as he was buying beer.
3. Myself: a milestone in recovery.
4. Love: THAT, my friends, has a whole category.
5. Dealers Choice: Get up. Suit up. Show up.

I tag: In Repair, Irish, Kickin Tina, Boy Grows Up, and IV League Grad.

Sorry guys.

Takin’ it at the Pump, originally uploaded by JDBaluch.

Yield and overcome; bend and be straight; empty and be full; wear out and be new; have little and gain; have much and be confused. Therefore wise men embrace the one and set an example to all. Not putting on a display, they shine forth. Not justifying themselves, they are distinguished. Not boasting, they receive recognition. Not bragging, they never falter. They do not quarrel so no one quarrels with them. Therefore the ancients say, “Yield and overcome.” Is that an empty saying? Be really whole and all things will come to you. (verse 22. tr. Gia Fu Feng)

Clearly (clearly) there remains much for me to overcome and much for me to yield to; much to harmonize my personal will with the natural harmony and justice of Nature, what I refer to as God. ‘The World is ruled by letting things take their natural course. It cannot be ruled by going against nature or arrogance.’ (Tao Te Ching; Verse 48).

As an alcoholic and addict, even in recovery, I find myself forever in opposition the the natural order of things. I am “almost always in collision with something or somebody, even though [my] motives [are] good.” I have the delusion that [I] can wrest satisfaction and happiness out of this world if [I] only manage well.” “[E]ven in [my] best moments (I am) a producer of confusion rather than harmony.”

Not all of the character defects of a lifetime of addiction are gone yet, but I “have recovered from a seemingly hopeless state of mind and body. To show other alcoholics (and addicts, especially crystal meth addicts) precisely how [I] have recovered is the main purpose of this [blog].” I share my experience, strength and hope with readers here to aid me in the path of my own recovery and hopefully to help other addicts find or improve theirs. It is plain to anyone who read me one year ago today that I am hardly recognizable as the same person. That change came about by taking simple steps, which embody simple, specific, spiritual principles. I took those steps in specific order. I learned to practice those principles in sequence. I do it in the loving guidance of someone who did exactly the same thing before me as he was taught by someone before him.

In the process many of my major character defects have lessened if not been removed entirely, just as the obsession to get loaded was removed. “There is a long period of reconstruction ahead.” I was struck sober, not perfect. I still suffer from a compulsion to be ‘right’. I still become hopeless. I still fear change. I still seek recognition and fear discovery. I am still judgmental, unkind, faithless; just not as much today. I lack perfect ability to at all times put into practice the principles I have been taught. But when these things do crop up I have tools to handle them.

The path I follow, the Tao of the Texaco if you will, are the steps of Alcoholics Anonymous and the principles (or virtues, as they are sometimes called) they teach. There are various interpretations of the steps and lists of their underlying principles. The one I use is the one that was taught to me by my sponsor, who’s sponsor taught him, and so on, all the way back to someone I personally know who has been sober 37 years and who received it from someone before him. Corresponding with each step, those principles are:

1. Honesty
2. Hope
3. Faith
4. Courage
5. Integrity
6. Willingness
7. Humility
8. Brotherly Love
9. Justice
10. Perseverance
11. Spirituality
12. Service

And I don’t know about any other serious addict but the thing that set me on this path, most honest thing I ever told my self and could no longer deny was, “I’m fucked.”

The Tao of Texaco, originally uploaded by Todd Robert Petersen.