Narcissism

Now for a little religion!  No, really not.  Just....
Why AA works ..  is really the title

The 12 steps (capital S Steps if you're a believer) of AA are a guide for spiritual living.  A guide that echoes wisdom of the ages from, well, all over the place.  The Holy Bible for one.  Buddhism.  And on and on.  Koran...
  I am certainly not proselytizing.   In fact, where the word God was a problem for the founders of AA (they knew it would be a turnoff for a lot of drunks -- atheism abounded in upper class America in the 30's), I'm afraid the term 'spiritual' carries some stigma lately.  Smells like hippies and aromatherapy.   Mere spirituality was more innocent and odd in the 20th century.  So let's not say 'spiritual' living.  Let's say "a thoughtful, caring, and as sober as possible ...life   one day at a time,"  A pledge to watch out for selfishness, self-centeredness, dishonesty and fear.
 You should try it sometime.  If you want.  Just a suggestion.  (chuckle)

So I've divulged that AA is not merely about "putting the plug in the jug."  There is power in the Steps, in the literature, and in 'the rooms.'

The rooms work because what entertainment!  A roomful of sociopathic narcissists (redundant?) pretty much sort of trying not to be.  They say "egomaniacs with inferiority complexes."   Look at me Look at me!  I'm sober today, I'm grateful, I hate my boss, I forgot that the Steps are in order for a reason...I try to let people share their experience, no matter what, and I really try not to judge.  But I am judge and jury.    I forgot that the original AA's did the 12 steps initially in a matter of hours or at most a few days.  And then pretty much kept doing them for the rest of their lives.  Many died sober.

My goal.  That.   To die sober.  But I'll forever be a narcissist.  My name is [name], and I'm a self-centered insomniac.

Slow Current

Let’s all get old and die later.

Or

 Let’s just die.

The quirks of the elderly are not necessarily part (not parcel) of the disintegration of the various systems.  I face my defects every day, now.  Now that I am seeking remedies for the slowly encroaching discomforts of age.   It’s really about time.  (I am 65)

There is a thought that stays in the conscious but seems to take up little time or space --  the thought that I have worked hard and accomplished something (not sure what, progeny? --  and I use this word in the warmest sense).

And for my work I am rewarded with

Medicare

Urinary disorder

Wrist pain

Time to practice

Practice

Time to teach …  teaching

Time to eat

Etc

The world is not eager for me to be responsible for it.  I surmise.  Mainly, I have little motivation to be active in the world.   I have grown used to my own company.  Not the LLC.   To which I will never be used.

But how does this play out?

I am a bit afraid of 70, 75  -- they look really implausible.

Which reminds me of the other reward of the rapid, quiet, cold ticking of an older person’s clock:  there’s time for some serious discussion with God

Which should have been going on all along.

Yoga might help all this too.

And there is the upside, the view from the mountaintop, and all the people look like ants.  Fire ants.

Was it SO Bad?

When the distance between the train track rails was not standardized?

Yeah, it was pretty stoopid.  Lay 1000 miles of track meant to join the existing 1000 miles of track but....No!  Off by 3 centimeters!   Can you just bend it a little?

Similar, the auto-upgrade features of software.  These are constantly improving, but so are the Big Brother aspects of our (internet) world.  It's the opposite problem:  The track is all standardized, but the trains aren't running.  Or are running so fast they are hard to see, let alone board.

People do what they can.  Thus we have:  high-rise condos, new potent alcoholic drink fads, popular books that are 325 pages long but can be summarized in one paragraph.  And spouses.

Currently I have no spouse.  I remember having one.  I remember having some one else's, in some sense.

The plural of spouse seems to be but is not spice.  Spice are the people in black trenchcoats who steal nuclear secrets.  We are all members of the nuclear family, and this is so not reassuring.

But is it so bad?  Malaria in Panama.  My addictions.  Your addictions.  These things seem bad.
But so?   So bad?   I have said before What doesn't kill you still might hurt, or something to that effect.
But is pain so bad?  I mean after all there's aways pain medication.  So sad when the opiates die, after only a half-life too!

Definitely not Email

Here it is folks;  a summary of email "rules" derived from internet wisdom (not mine other people's)

 RECOMMENDED DO NOT USE EMAIL SITUATIONS

1  breaking bad news (your mom died just now)

2  canceling a meeting that was supposed to start in 6 minutes

3  negotiating a price (phone or face to face best)

4  when something has to be done NOW

5  when the subject is complex and you have a lot to say

6  marriage proposal (really, ANY important proposal)

7  any kind of negotiation that will call for a lot of back and forth, or a lengthy interview

8 to express a complaint or criticism

9  when you do not want a permanent record

10 when it's 1 or 2 people you want to reach, and you are not geographically distant from them

11 complicated instructions

12  when the message has to be in any sense LONG

Boring mostly.  But right really.  Except of course if you get frozen in the tundra in northern Greenland and you have to share a sleeping bag with your best friend's wife just to survive.

Similarly, if you are - odd but I suppose possible -- at some point able to communicate ONLY by email, the rules can be broken.  But the email won't be very effective.  And it will not keep you warm.

They NEVER do.  Bring much warmth, heat, rage.  They convey emotion dismally.  And they engender way more emotion than we think they will.   Really pisses me off.

I have one work situation where they seem useful.  Every week a small team gets identical instructions for a group project.   Works okay.  Worked a lot better when we got together for even an hour to discuss the project.  Like people.   The instructions are a songlist, the project is to play a gig, the getting together was rehearsal.  It's been a couple years now.  I don't want to rehearse.   Wait.  yes I do.

How do I get to Carnegie Hall?   ..........   from Brooklyn?

What is the most frustrating thing?   Oh, there are so many.

The emailer who has little command of the language she is using.  I know it's probably just me, but the typos and poor word choice and non-grammar throw me way off.  I am disturbed and don't trust any information I feel was supposed to be conveyed.

My best advice to avoid the painful regret that can immediately follow hitting Send ---  is to often NOT send.  So what if I've spent an hour a day for two weeks trying to craft the perfect words to convince Jill Schmo to dump her longterm BF and shack up with old me?   A diamond and lots of flowers could work.  Or at least get the ball rolling.  (ahem)

Emails are chickenshit.  Often passive aggressive.  Truly regrettable more than 50% of the time.  And always wrong.   In some way.

Thus, a voluminous waste of time.   (where are my glasses?)

Do not email me.   Text if you must.  Call anytime.

Next week:  Blogs are all bad!  (but not as bad as emails)