Garbage In, Garbage Out

That's something my mother used to say... "Garbage in, garbage out."

The meaning is simple: We can absolutely be corrupted by our life choices. What you put into your mind is what you'll get out. 

I've discovered that I can't watch road rage or Ukraine war videos anymore. My "Id" (the primitive "reptile" part of my brain) doesn't know how to differentiate between footage and actual events. That is to say, when I watch real warfare on YouTube, my lizard brain assumes that I'm actually there, in the action, losing buddies and fighting for my life.

I soon discovered that letting that kind of negativity into my head was affecting my moods. I was growing increasingly angry and depressed. When I analyzed what was happening, it became clear that I needed to eliminate the negative input in order to redirect my moods.

I had to explore the things that were effecting my psyche and bringing me down. Recognizing the cause of negative behaviors was the first step toward changing myself and becoming a better person.

The change didn't happen in an instant. It took work.

The same goes for forgiveness. Saying "I forgive you" can sometimes work for little indiscretions, but not as easy for the big ones.

I once had a sponsee who was struggling with the 9th Step. He couldn't bring himself to make amends to his uncle who had molested him as a child. Who could blame him? He thought he had to apologize in order to make amends.

I explained to him that amends wasn't about apologizing, it was about doing whatever it takes to forgive yourself and/or the other person for past wrongs. Often times, this forgiveness requires an apology, but not always.

The key is to realize that forgiveness doesn't happen all at once with the wave of a magic wand-- it takes time and patience. The greater the grievance, the longer and more difficult the process of forgiveness.

Forgiveness is a choice--to forgive doesn't mean we forget.

We don't heal to forgive, we forgive to heal. It is one of the most important steps toward changing our lives for the better. 

If we wait until we feel like forgiving, we'll never do it.

Gimme, Gimme, Gimme!

Can you name many great businessmen from history? Perhaps names like Rockefeller, Ford, Carnegie, Jobs, and Musk come to mind?

How about great humanitarians? Perhaps names like Jesus, Mohamed, Siddhartha, Gandhi and Martin Luther King top the list?

Of these two groups, who would you prefer to have coffee with? I'm guessing most people will choose the latter... the humanitarians. 

We all would prefer to meet, dine, and chat with the humanitarians, yet so few of us strive to BE the humanitarians. Instead, we scrimp and claw for financial freedom and success. We yearn to reach the apex of stability and luxury, so we can put our feet up in comfort.

During the early days of the COVID Pandemic, a bizarre thing happened...  Mobs of frightened people rushed to their nearest market, clambering to clear the shelves. Did they want water, batteries, canned food, or matches? NO. They wanted TOILET PAPER. 

Panic stricken throngs, blinded by fear and selfishness, filled their carts with a year's supply of Charmin, leaving their neighbors with the unsavory option of wiping their backsides with leftover paper towels and napkins (which were soon gone, as well). They didn't give a thought to their immense selfishness -- their "Inconsiderate Meter" pinned squarely on "Me! Me! Mine!"

Human Nature.

But you are different. You have decided you will GIVE and not TAKE. As such, they find you, the "takers," and they take and take and take and take. They take what they need, what they don't need, and when they have enough, they demand "More! Give us more!" 

You turn your pockets out, "I have no more to give." 

"You don't care about us!" They cry. "You're selfish!"

Your limit reached, you are forced to set boundaries... that's when they turn on you. No longer are you the care-giver, the philanthropist, the saint; Now you are the greedy miser. The enemy.

"Wait!" you protest. "I gave you everything! Was that not enough for you to love me?"

"No." They say with a turn, "It was not."

Sadly, this is the world we live in. The world we've created. It is the antithesis of the message carried by every great thinker in the history of the world. 

If you were to have coffee with MLK, Gandhi, Buddha, Mohamed, or Jesus, and ask them the purpose of life, every one of them would give you the same answer: "Humility, selflessness, compassion."

To "take" is human. To "give" is divine.

Does God Let Bad Things Happen?

Why does God let bad things happen? Shouldn't a loving, benevolent God watch out for His children? If He's a God of good and justice, why doesn't He intervene and put a stop to evil and injustice?

I recently watched a video where a police officer was attacked by a mentally unstable transient man. The officer responded to a call from the property owner about the trespasser and approached the man, hoping to have a simple conversation. The suspect leaped to his feet, brandished a butcher knife, and stabbed the officer in the neck before he could get his hands out of his pockets.

The officer was a young man of 24, married with two young children, stabbed to death for no reason. 

Why did God let this happen?

The answer: Free Will.

To take it one step further, not only is this the answer to the question "Why does God let bad things happen," it's also the answer to the question, "Why are we here?"

Free Will.

It's the "Great Experiment": Create mankind, give each of them a moral compass, guidelines, and free will, then put them into a giant fishbowl and see how they treat one another.  Those who treat each other with kindness and grace are proven acceptable to enter into God's presence, those who don't... well, that's a hotly debated subject in many theological circles.  

It all hinges on "Free Will." We MUST be allowed to freely make decisions in order for this experiment to work. With decisions come consequences - sometimes good, sometimes bad. And bad consequences by bad actors means sometimes bad things happen to good people.

So, why is the afterlife such a secret?

If you were preparing for a final exam in college and the professor announced that the answers would be posted prior to the exam, giving everyone permission to look, you'd be a fool not to peek, especially since you have permission from the instructor.

What would happen? EVERYONE would ace the test! The instructor would have no gauge on whether anyone actually learned anything in his class and the whole of the student body would pass the course.

In the same sense, if God were to pull back the curtain and let us glimpse into the afterlife, we'd have all the answers to the test--there would be no true character litmus for humans.

When we lose someone dear to us, we're devastated, naturally, by the loss. As such, we view death as a horrible thing. In reality, death is the goal-- it's the finish line. It is where we ultimately want to be.

Death is not a bad thing, it's a blessing. But if we were to know this beyond any doubt, if the veil were pulled back, there would be no fear and no reason to continue on with the suffering of this life.

The mystery is integral to the test. It is what keeps us going until we cross the finish line.

Why does God let bad things happen to children?

Everyone has their own trials to overcome. Every person's trial is different.

The scriptures say, "To him who is given much, much will be expected. To him who is given little, little will be expected." So, someone like Bill Gates, who has live a long and fruitful life, will be held to a high level of expectation and much to answer for when he eventually crosses over.

Conversely, the child born in the slums of Mumbai, riddled with disease and poverty for the whole of their short life, has been given little. As such, little will be expected from them. They will be judged according to the light they shine and what they have done according to what they have been given.

Again, everyone has their own trials to overcome. The poor child in Mumbai has very different trials than a billionaire, but each has their own perilous road to travel.

On the other side, all things are equal, including the trials each person had to overcome to get there. 

Why does God let bad things happen to good people?

God doesn't want us to be good for Him, He wants us to be good to each other because it's the right thing to do. If He were to intervene on behalf of "good people," everyone would be good and there would be no "choice" (a la the final exam analogy). The experiment would fail.

Free Will. Everyone has it. Even the terrorists who murdered thousands on 9/11. Everyone.

The real test is how we respond when bad things happen. Will we respond with grace and kindness? Or will we fly a plane full of innocents into a building?

God is watching.

Progress... not perfection.

What happened: I stopped at a local gas station to top of a rental truck that I was returning (I only needed to put $10 in the tank). I pulled up, waved my credit card in front of the "touchless sensor," the pump turned on, I started pumping.

Next thing I knew, an employee stormed out of the minimart, marched up to my vehicle, and began SCREAMING at me, accusing me of stealing gas from the woman who's car was parked three pumps away from mine.

"Whoa, whoa... what?" I responded. "I don't understand..."

"THAT'S HER PUMP!" He spat back. "YOU KNEW IT AND YOU'RE A THIEF!"

The misunderstanding: Apparently the woman decided to switch pumps, went inside, and put $20 on my pump. The genius (and I use the term sarcastically) employee didn't bother to check if the pump was free and turned it on at the exact moment that I waved my card in front of the reader.

Honest misunderstanding.

Rather than exercise common sense and decorum, this guy bolted out to the pumps and began slinging accusations and threats. He called me a thief, demanded that I pay her $20 (even though I only used $10), and threatened to call the police.

Immediately, I recognized what was going on. Calmly, I attempted to explain what had happened, thinking (erroneously) that the whole thing could be worked out via rational dialogue. But the calmer my demeanor, the more aggressive he grew. 

It became clear to me, all at once, that this idiot only understood the language of aggression. So I got aggressive.

I snapped and began heaving expletives upon this man the likes of which he had never experienced, as witnessed by his immediate change in demeanor. He was no longer advancing, but retreating back into the safety of his minimart, as a troll to its cave (as bullies are like to do).

I pursued, whipping a twenty dollar bill out of my wallet and slamming it onto the counter in front of him, "Break this so I can pay that woman the $10 I owe her, ya @&%# idiot!"

He scrambled for change in his register and sent me on my way, lobbing more insults over my shoulder as I left. I paid the lady, apologized for the misunderstanding, and drove off.

Yes, I could have maintained my cool. I could have waved him off and walked away. I didn't. I snapped. 

I know what you're thinking, "Um... Guy... where's the progress?"

Valid question. Actually, there was all kinds of "progress" there... you just have to know where to look.

See, back in the day, there would have been no attempts at decorum, no "calm explanations." Back in the day, I would have immediately climbed down that dude's throat, put hands on him, and gone to jail.

BUT...

I tried to reason with him (for what felt like an inordinate amount of time) and I didn't lay a hand on him! You know what that's called? 

PROGRESS!

I don't have to be perfect. I just have try to be a little bit better today than I was yesterday. That's it!

Progress... not perfection.

Bill Wilson did LSD!

Did he? I don't know... I wasn't there. Who can say for sure? For the sake of argument, let's say he did... To quote my mother, "If Bill Wilson jumped off a cliff, would you?"

Hold onto your hats, I'm about to offer a controversial viewpoint -- people are bound to freakout, rip their clothing, and throw things -- but please, try to refrain from total anarchy. 

Are you ready? Here goes...  BILL. WILSON. WAS. NOT. GOD. 

There. I said it.

Maybe he did take LSD. So what? 

He was human, fallible, prone to mistakes. Just because Bill Wilson did something, doesn't mean it was the right thing to do. 

Human nature bends toward idol worship. We LOVE to create heroes out of mere mortals and place them on pedestals in order to deify their every thought, word, and deed. Such has become the fate of old Mr. Wilson! 

Make no mistake, Bill did NOT develop the concepts of AA so that YOU could stay sober... he developed them so HE could stay sober. He was a visionary and an early pioneer of sobriety -- he was not a prophet or cherubim sent from the Almighty to serve as a holy source of omniscient recovery. 

Bill would be the first to confess that he didn't have all the answers and that his journey down the path of sobriety was as flawed and bumbling as the drunk next to him! He never held himself up as an example of perfection, so why do we?

Yes, perhaps Bill did take LSD. Let's say (for fun) that he also tried heroin... or meth... or PCP... (who knows, he may have) is it then permissible to partake in those drugs and maintain that we are still sober?

I think we can all answer this question with a resounding "NO!"

If Bill Wilson did do these things, it doesn't mean he was sober... it means he was human. And that's okay. 

To rephrase my mother's query, "If Bill Wilson jumped off the wagon, into relapse, would you?"

Permission to Relapse

I once had a sponsee who constantly asked me for permission to relapse. 

Of course, he never came right out and asked, he just kept trying to find "loop holes" that I'd agree to. 

His first ploy, in his first month, was to get me to approve of him drinking non-alcoholic beer. Now, to be clear, I usually don't have a problem with a sober member drinking NA beer - You can't get drunk off it and it's your program, so do what you want. But with this particular sponsee, I knew it was deeper than that -- he was looking for an easier, softer way.

"Why bother with NA beer?" I asked. "Just pull the trigger and drink the real stuff. That's what you want."

He stepped back, aghast. "You WANT me to relapse?"

"No," I responded. "But clearly that's what you want. You're trigger-hunting." I told him the choice was his, but if he decided to drink NA beer, he'd have to find a new sponsor. 

About a month later, someone in the program planted the idea of "marijuana maintenance" into his head. Once again, he came looking for permission to relapse. This time, he used a different tactic... he opted for taking my inventory as it pertained to cigarette smoking, reasoning that "nicotine is a mind-altering drug," so if I can smoke cigarettes, he should be permitted to smoke weed.

Once again, I encouraged him to go back out. He'd know where to find me when he was ready to work an honest program.

Of course, the ONLY time he worked as directed was when I told him to "go back out." Off he'd go to seek out an easier, softer way. Then, a few months later, he'd come sulking back into the rooms, asking me to sponsor him again. I'd take him on, he'd look for excuses to relapse, I'd send him back out, he'd wrap his car around a phone pole (or something equally brilliant), then show up back in the rooms with his head hung. Around and around and around we went like this... for years.

Eventually, I lost contact with him. I'm fairly certain he's still out there, somewhere, riding the "retread spin cycle" to this day.

-------------------

In my drinking days, my favorite "treat" was a high-end bottle of sake. LOVED IT. Coincidentally, I happened to have a Japanese roommate who was visiting his family in Osaka the week I decided to quit drinking. Oblivious to my newfound sobriety, he returned home bearing the gift of an ornate bottle of authentic, Japanese sake. 

Not gonna lie... I entertained the idea of popping that cork and picking a new date. 

I didn't. 

Instead, I took that bottle and put it up in a cupboard, over my sink. I said to myself, "If I ever decide to relapse, that's gonna be the bottle I do it with" and promptly forgot about it.

Over the years, I would occasionally share in meetings about that bottle over my sink and what it represented to my sobriety. Without fail, while exiting the hall, someone would approach and declare, "You have to throw that bottle out! It'll cause you to relapse if you don't!"

A bottle of booze will cause me to relapse? Nothing could be further from the truth. The ONLY thing that will cause me to relapse is MY BRAIN. In fact, there's a liquor store on the corner, half-a-block from my house, that's FULL of booze. Whether I reach into the cupboard over my sink or walk down to the corner store, relapse is there for the taking if I want it.

I was in no danger of "accidental relapse." It has never happened. Not once, in the history of Recovery, has anyone ever accidentally tripped over a bottle and had its contents emptied into their mouth.

Every relapse is planned. EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. 

You don't need permission... if you're not done, you're not done. Go ahead and tip the bottle one more time. If you're looking for a reason to relapse, you WILL relapse. It's just a matter of time. Stop torturing yourself and just do it.

So go ahead... pick up that bottle, light that joint, drop that hit, snort that line, fire up that pipe, and get it out of your system.

When you're done fighting, the rooms will be here waiting for you.

Unconditional Love

I have come to realize that "unconditional love" is a far rarer concept than most believe it to be. The majority of love/friendships we currently hold in our lives are, in fact, "conditional."

But what does that mean?

We have all experienced a break-up with a boyfriend, girlfriend, spouse, significant other, etc., in which our "shared friends" were halved after the dissolution of the relationship. Suddenly, people whom we loved, respected (and believed respected us), with whom we laughed and cried are suddenly gone, out of our lives. They have chosen to retain their friendship with our former partner and, in turn, ended all contact with us.

Those so-called friends only loved us under the condition that we remained in a relationship with our partner. It was "conditional love."

We have many of these conditional relationships in our lives: Work friends who (seem to) care about us so long as we're employed under the same roof as them, social climbing friends who flit through our lives on their way up the social ladder, current and former schoolmates, those who orbit in the same hobby/church/social groups as us, and so on. 

Personally, I have found the most intriguing group of conditional friends to be my "old party friends." Early on, I was faced with the quandary of whether to continue relations with my drinking buddies, once sober. Should I remain friends with them or exercise self-preservation and walk away?

A particularly difficult relationship to justify was my mentor - a dear friend who was a hope-to-die alcoholic. Early in my sobriety, he invited me out to dinner, which was (of course) at a local bar. 

That night, he ordered a particularly "colorful" cocktail that I had not seen before. "What's that?" I asked.

"This is a (insert exotic cocktail name here)" he said, as he slid the drink in my direction.

Out of reflex, I snatched the drink and lifted it to my mouth. The cocktail was inches from my lips when my brain screamed, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING???" I set the drink down and slid it back - close call.

He knew I was sober, yet he put me in a tenuous situation.  But it wasn't his fault... I put MYSELF in that situation. This was the type of place where we had established our friendship, it was a common stomping ground. If I was to continue our friendship, it would be mired in this sort of temptation. As much as I adored my friend, I had to step back and put distance between us. 

Another one of my drinking buddies, a guy who was like a brother to me, actively despised the idea of losing me to sobriety. He regularly and blatantly tempted me into relapse. Likewise, I was forced to make a choice between our friendship and my sobriety. I chose the latter.

In these situations, with these friends, I was absolutely guilty of withholding "unconditional love" for my brothers. It was a quandary... if I offered my love to them, I wouldn't be able to give it to myself.

Eventually, I grew strong enough in my recovery to return to those friendships and once again offer that love. I don't regret my decision to step away... I had to do what was right for me and my sobriety.

In our first year of recovery, unconditional love is not an option -- whether it be old drinking buddies, romantic relationships, or toxic family members -- WE HAVE TO BE SELFISH.  

Nobody in this world will look out for your wellbeing better than you. Setting boundaries with others does not make us bad people, it makes us survivors.