things social – Page 7 – Trezvennost II

Yeah, seriously

I saw this advertising on the bus that made feel rather uncomfortable.

“We take wine seriously, so you don’t have to.” © Yellow Tail

So… what’s going on here? Why am I taking offence to this? Am I one of those in the legion of the Upset who can’t breathe without pointing something out and complaining about it? Or is there something here worth thinking of?

I think that thinking is required. Ha.

First of all, it is a clever advert and I got to give them an “A” for that. There’s been quite a bit of smart ads around lately that either make me chuckle or admit that even though I don’t care or don’t agree with what was advertised, it is still smart. Yellow Tail, the company selling wine from Australia for over half a century, or whoever is writing down their ad campaign, got their heads together.

Secondly, though, there is a problem too. Tell me, what happens when someone tell you “Let me handle this, so you don’t have to”? Isn’t that how the world powers became the ones who have the power and the majority were left screwed? Isn’t that how we ended up with the banks running the globe? They still talk it: “Let us handle this for you.”

And thirdly, about that word “seriously.” Somebody doesn’t want you to take your wine seriously. Think about it. Someone you don’t know, knows nothing about you (but wants your money to buy a fun looking bottle) tells you that you don’t need to take your (drinking) seriously. This ad was on the bus. Who takes the bus and can’t yet afford cars? I mean, besides the seniors and low-income adults? Right, kids. And freshman students. So, do you think there may be some kind of an issue with the bright yellow ad basically throwing itself in the eyes of a kid/young student on the bus, an ad saying you don’t have to take your wine (drinking, responsibility around alcohol) seriously?

OK, enough about the kids. How many adults do we have out there in the world who don’t take their behavior involving alcohol seriously? Do we need more? Well, we keep attracting them into the wrong thinking right now. It gives us some strange ideas. No, not thinking about the ad’s pros and cons. More like, let’s just let it rip, who cares…

Am I exaggerating?

the image was copied from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yellow_Tail_(wine) and mutilated by me. thanks.

drink u pretty

He sang

He couldn’t drink the girl pretty

She really wasn’t it, I guess.

I tried to drink her pretty,

And I failed too.

Her name was Life,

Her last name was On-its-terms.

Must be French.

I was stubborn though.

I tried, and I tried, and I tried.

She wasn’t. Stubborn, I mean.

She just was.

She sat there like a rock

And smiled sadly,

Probably hoping I’d get it,

But it took me a while:

Years of anger,

Brain cells wasted in millions,

And hope in fellow men – in shovels,

Only it wasn’t their fault.

False hopes and unrealistic expectations did it.

I cared for things that wasn’t there,

Although all that time I had people

Telling the truth to my face,

Truth I didn’t like.

I always thought Plan B would work,

But I got to letter Z and I was still profoundly fucked.

Now I look at the sky with eyes sober

As the morning dew,

(unless the air got drunk on a whim)

And say “thank you” a lot.

I still try,

You know, coffee it pretty.

But I think it’s a different kick –

No one gets hurt,

And the bills get paid.

She still sits there like a rock,

But I know her smile is happier now.

the front image was copied from https://www.theatlantic.com/science/archive/2018/03/k2-last-problem-of-the-himalayas/554618/. thanks.

Inter(est)act

I was looking at the contents of the shiny white friend this morning after I’ve used it and I was wondering how it was possible that I, who considered himself rather graceful and clean creature, could spend the whole night being literally full of shit.

And everybody is. At any time of the day, we are all full of human waste that we need to at some point, get rid of. All of us. Smart and pimpled kids, strong and prejudiced men, beautiful and jealous women. Skull beneath the radiant skin, guts behind the ribcage behind the chest, be it pumped up muscles or attractive breasts. The truth is that we are all organisms before we are persons, and it is stupid to deny, even though some time we try to and most of the time don’t think about at all.

Why do I think about it now? Well, that’s out of a certain thinking that comes to me in the spring time. Ever heard of spring time depression? Yeah. But I don’t think I am depressed today. I think it is simply me, more and more often, looking at the futility of living.

I’ve been around for four decades to find that it is harder to find a good belief to keep on living.

And before you may think it, I must say that I am not thinking of ending my life. Nope.

So, having said that, I am trying to hold on to a goal of getting published and helping others. Leaving a positive footprint, so to speak. Not an ecological footprint that I hope would be as small as possible, but a constructive social and cultural footprint of being more of a solution than a problem. That’s a positive thing, isn’t it?

But that is not enough, I think. Not enough to make me still see the futility of life. I can see that I’m still an animal that spends one third of a day being literally full of shit. I will be working, writing, publish a book for someone to read (thanks man… ugh), make a coffee company rich, try my best to be good to others and live honorably, die. I believe in reincarnation, so my spirit will travel on to some other dimension or maybe into another creature and I’ll end up fighting for survival, hunting for nuts for the rest of that life, but is that what I’m supposed to have a life for, enslaved by the work and style system?

I wonder if there is a point in trying to convince myself that something different may work? I keep walking forward and keep pushing the envelope, but I am not sure for how long I will care to keep trying and keep my cool. I mean, it worked so well for the last 13 years, why fix something that isn’t broken?

Maybe I’m supposed to fill my life with more enjoyment and excitement. But you know, my writing brings plenty of excitement. I think you may have no idea what it feels like creating worlds out of your imagination and committing their existence and vibration to paper or digital screen.

So, I thought of something.

All the world on this planet is simply a combination of living creatures (and here I put rather frivolously together in one category birds, mammals, reptiles, and insects), plants, rocks, soil, and light. The life, however, wouldn’t be happening if there was no interaction between these species and materials. If plants were out of the soil, they wouldn’t grow. If the living creatures, including humans, wouldn’t eat plants, most of them would die. If the creatures wouldn’t eat creatures, they’d die. If creatures wouldn’t build shelters out of plants and rocks, they would either get attacked by other creatures or freeze to death in certain areas of the world. And without light, most plants and many creatures will perish just as well.

The interaction between all these is what gives life to them all. Interaction is life. Creatures and plants get going through life, keeping breeding and existing because they’ve got it programmed in their brains and sinews. But humans are not so easy. We need a goal. A belief. A dream. A desire.

So maybe it is a different kind of interaction, known as communication? With the like-minded creatures. I could interact beyond writing. I could read more. I could hear more often what they/you say. Yet so often I am tired of what you have to offer. I heard you all for almost forty years. I feel like I could survive listening to the stories I tell myself. But if I do that, how long will it take before I realize that I somehow keep the same story going down the same loop?

I wonder if I am destined to live differently. You know, no future is set. The Nornes keep the scrolls of life written out, so no path I choose is wrong, as long as I don’t break social and moral laws. There are stars that gleam in the darkness that warn me of dangers of straying too far off the path of a noble life.

I often can’t stand people for how they treat themselves and others, but I also know of many people who encourage communicating for the benefit of both sides, and those who help others altruistically. I so much loathe the humankind for what they did to themselves as a race and to other species, that I truly don’t care for what happens to the world after I pass. Actually, I don’t mind the world to burn, but at the same time it warms me to know that there are people who have rebuilt their lives by being of service to others (I regularly see one of them in the mirror. Yes, right next to the toilet.) I read many examples of insanity and tyranny, as well true stories of heroism and care for one another. I so often see people being inconsiderate to everyone and everything around them that I don’t call myself a human. I am a wild creature, a wolf that cares for the pack’s well being.

Am I so full of shit that my eyes are turning brown besides being brown from birth? Birth, life, death, repeat. I need to continue interacting with you to make the repeat not feel so perpetually bleak and senseless, even when life seems to be going not so bad for me. One day the wolf will eat the sun and the world will perish, so proving something to ourselves to keep on living is pointless just for the sake of putting one foot in front of the other aimlessly. I need to keep interacting with others to learn new things to avoid stagnation of the mind. I need to keep a vital interest in pushing forward so that I wouldn’t walk blindly in the same learned lines and behave in the same programmed ways.

____

the image was copied from https://www.networksasia.net/article/why-advanced-interconnections-are-vital-cloud-service-providers.1425276237 thanks.

Smoking Open Lights

I’ve just realized that I’ve made it for ten years without smoking tobacco or any other substance this past month. I used to count them, but this year it somehow crept up on my unexpectedly.

I most likely wouldn’t be able to come to not smoking at all if thirteen years and nine months ago I didn’t make a conscious decision to quit… drinking. Weird? No anymore, not to me anyway.

I came to the recovery fellowship and I’ve learned plenty of skills. As the result, I’ve quit drinking which would not work if I didn’t acquire a certain program of thinking and being, a life style that pushed for a healthier life in spirit, body, and mind. Thanks to that, I managed to see clearer some other unhealthy things that I did in my life, behaviors that didn’t help, such as isolating and judging others. A couple years after, “doing” the Steps, I came to the realization that I could quit smoking cigarettes with the help of the Steps wisdom since nothing else worked. This worked out successfully, as some other things. Some didn’t, but that’s life. I keep trying and among other things, I keep saying “thank you” when things work out, whether it is small or large.

“Thank you” is something so easily said, as well as “sorry” or “how are you”, and I think often we don’t really think about it, as we say it to others, or when they say it to us. I try to think about it lately, though. There are lots of things to be grateful for, even if life is not working the way I would prefer it did.

In the Fellowship I was taught to be grateful for every day. It worked when I tried it in my morning prayer. Yet I still resisted being grateful throughout the day. I was happy for sobriety yet I often resented people around me. My first couple years in sobriety were of solid sobriety but at times I felt miserable, because… well, I don’t really know why, but I think I was not there spiritually as much as I could have been. What I decided I’d start doing is saying thank you to people who did the jobs that I knew I would never do successfully. They did their service and I paid for it and I’d say thank you. Within less than ten days my outlook on life started changing for the better.

Soon after that I started working at a homeless shelter. There I met people who were angry about everything, dissatisfied with anything, and it used to distress me, but with time I learned to think they were not having a good day lifetime long. There were also people who woke up and said thank you to anything, to every little thing others did for them. I felt connected to these people, and years later I wrote a novella about that spirit of open-mindedness and gratitude for life.

I don’t think I’d be able to come this far in life and doing reasonably well if I didn’t push myself out of the dark room and allowed myself to have a different life. I used to isolate so much I’ve become a professional isolationist and procrastinator with a diploma hanging on the wall. Even in an active community of recovery with so many things happening, with so much positivity and vigor one can still live a stagnant life. I could have easily slipped through the cracks in these rooms if it wasn’t for the man named Ted. He not only welcomed me into recovery, he also gave me a good kick in the butt to live my recovery actively, and he did it with a cheer and I appreciated that. Years later our paths separated due to disagreements which is still upsetting to me, but I hope he is doing good and maybe one day we will be talking again.

Ted had a vibe full of life, and that vibe infected me, wanting more of life than just living sober. It brought forth the fruits of labor that was sober living, joyful life of recovery that keeps going on, like a wheel turning. There are many people in rooms of sobriety that I’ve met over the years. I am grateful to them all and I hope many others that are in need of help will be able to open their spirits to gratitude and trust to the world wide fellowship of AA and as the result will heal and expand their lives for much better than they ever knew was possible.

instead of a diploma, enjoy the front image that was taken by me. the punctuation (or the lack there of) game made me capture the sign and then inspired me to write this. so, thank you to whoever designed the sign ignoring the (un)holy laws of English punctuation and those who put the sign up.

Positive Choices

I remember an old saying from back home: If you are arguing with an idiot, there is a chance that they may be doing the same thing.

Funny? No? It’s OK. Have a carrot.

Unless you are an Argument Master and you know the strategy of solving a dispute without losing your face and not making another person feel like crap, arguing is not much fun. I’m sure everybody had verbal fights and not everybody likes them. To have what they want, people need time, space, and choice. Let them have it, unless them having it causes serious trouble for others, maybe.

Choice is a vital part in this system. Very often people say/think they don’t have a choice, yet I think it is very rare when that happens. Granted, some people are stuck in jail or in a mental institution and they cannot easily walk away from being locked up, but even then some of them do have choice to accept treatment/rehabilitation and one day some of them may go free sooner.

So, let’s take me who is in neither of these situations. Let’s say I am having an argument, and I am about to lose my mind. I have several choices on how to act. I can:

panic,

get angry,

breath in deep and exhale long,

take a step back,

smile and say “It’s OK. I’ll have a carrot.”

It’s easy to be positive now and philosophize now, but how will I act when an argument pushing for rage comes? Well, I was learning when I heard of this, and I am learning still now as I am writing down the memories. The experience of it all will show how well and what I’ve learned. What I will try to remember firstly is that I need to present the positive choices first. Like, I always can say “no” as I have a right to say “no” without explaining why. Or I can step back instead of yelling, or even lunging forward. I have a choice to react by not reacting. Remember Rush: “If you chose not to decide, you still have made the choice.”

Unlike some others, we have opportunities to make positive choices. Let’s make those. And have some carrots.

the image was copied from https://www.flickr.com/photos/59416005@N08/5433585117 and choiced by me. thank you.

The Bumpy Ride

He walked out of the dark room too fast for his own good

And he walked into a wall that I couldn’t believe he couldn’t see.

He walked too fast so on the way he tripped and fell, and he kept crying that his knee hurt

How I resented him!

After all the talk, all the teachings, he still kept doing some strange, unimaginable crap

That was not in the plan.

Years passed, as I watched those like him, failing miserably,

Until I realized that the plan I expected them to succeed accordingly

Was mine, not theirs.

Their lives were theirs, not mine, and such were the expectations.

Everybody’s got their own journey,

And the journey of recovery is not a straight line.

There should be signs all over the place along the track of recovery:

“Expects bumps, setbacks, and redirections!”

Some truly unpredictable situations can happen on the way,

Because life happens.

Sometimes the elevator breaks, and you have to take the stairs to the next level.

Yet though climbing up is exhausting,

We can focus on the idea

That recovery is a road

To pursue a life of fulfillment and hope

And it is worth fighting for no matter how bad the setbacks may seem.

Recovery is not a condition of being healed.

It’s a movement from A to Z and it is truly your own.

I try so hard to remember this when I look at them now

For I remember how I walked and how I fell, and that sometimes

It took a while to get up and walk straight.

I didn’t get all the lessons right away,

But eventually I worked out a plan that suits my journey,

More realistic, and more successful.

I try not to judge them on their success or lack thereof

Because their life and progress

Is none of my business,

For what can I know

Of where they came from and of the depths of their pain?

All I know is my own wounds

And how to tend to them,

No matter how bumpy is the ride.

the image was copied from https://www.theodysseyonline.com/healing-is-not-linear thank you.

Power to Carry (Listening, part 2)

There is a nice quote framed on the wall at my home group meeting room this week. It says, “Even if you are on a right path, you will get run over if you just sit there.” It’s attributed to Will Rogers.

Today we were sharing on Step 11, and although I didn’t have a chance to share, I did some thinking over it in connection to the aforementioned quote.

See, when I was looking over at my situation with drinking before it got better, I was thinking that I needed to quit, but I would do nothing about it. I saw the things falling out of my control and I observed complete powerlessness over the situation, but I wouldn’t consciously admit to it and accept it. I didn’t have the tools, nor did I have the connections, and I didn’t know which way to go to have anything accomplished regarding my relationship with the substance abuse. I just sat there, wondering, making hollow promises to myself.

When I came to the recovery program, I started going to meetings and I started doing the Steps. Step 11, the one talking about prayer and meditation, was the least explored for a while, but I eventually started doing both of these things. In case with meditation, what I started doing was listening and watching without speaking on it.

There was this person in one meeting I attended who said: “Quitting drinking is easy.” I immediately took offence to that because I knew it wasn’t easy for me. But then they went on: “It’s staying sober that is difficult.” And they had it right. I knew then where they was coming from and where they were going to with it – was something I full-heartedly agreed with. And I focused on that idea.

Then couple years later I was to a different meeting and a person sitting next to me said: “I don’t have a problem with alcohol.” So, I thought well what the hell are they doing here?! Then that person said: “But it’s life that I have a problem with.” And they had me, right there, right then. I kept listening, nodding my head, because I knew that talking about themselves, that person also talked about me. Alcohol was a substance that I was addicted to because I didn’t have the grip on myself and how to deal with life. Not being able to deal with life and people came first, alcohol was some sort of a bad medicine. In the situation with the speaker, if I didn’t listen and dwell in my birthing resentment to what they originally said, I’d miss a valuable statement that since then made a lot of sense to me and strengthened my recovery.

A couple weeks I heard a very similar share from a person at a meeting, but it was given a new depth: “If drinking is your problem, you are a drinker. If drinking is your solution, you are an alcoholic.” I kept sitting on my chair when I heard that, but believe me, I was floored. This was something I knew all this time, but it was never said out loud. And hell, was it ever eloquently put into words, just as it was deadly truthful!

Step 11 doesn’t just speak about prayer and meditation, it also mentions a power to carry out the will of our higher power in our daily living. This is where I’d connect it to that quote. Recovery, particularly through AA, is motion. If I just in a sandbox, surrounded by wisdom I don’t apply to life, resentments that I love to hate, and wonderings that keeps ideas at illusory level, attached to nothing, I will be run over by life that doesn’t stay on one spot, but keeps moving like the waves of the southern sea. I came to AA to stay sober, but I learned additionally how to carry on soberly and have a good life.

the image was copied from http://planetpedia.in/water-bodies/sea-waves.php thanks.

Alone, Not Lonely

He wrote a page-long vent post, then erased it.

OK, why lie. I wrote a page-long vent post, and then erased it. No, it’s not an identity crisis. It’s denial. Yes, I am working on it.

I wrote a page-long post on how I felt about solitary existence in the crowded room in a house in a crowded city. That’s not just one day. Or, if it is, it lasts an eternity. No, I am not always discontent and lonely. Sometimes… sometimes it is the kind of being alone that is not loneliness. You know? You are alone, but as Henry Rollins said, you don’t have to be lonely. You are content with being alone, because alone you can do things that you cannot do while being around others.

And although this is very cool and positive thought, still there is that time when the content part ends and I start feeling a desperate need to be with someone, make them listen, help them be heard.

I can play my video games for over six hours in a row, but then I take my dog for a walk and I look at the many apartment buildings in the area, and someone’s windows are still lit at 2am and I wonder, What are they doing? Are they alone? Crying? Drinking? Mourning? Playing a video game? Do they need someone? And if they do, how can I help? I can’t. I tell myself I can’t unless they reach out. And then I get myself thinking farther and I feel like I have several good lines for a new story, and so I walk the dog back home and get writing.

And that’s a good-alone-time to do writing when no one is around and it works just perfect.

It worked perfectly for him to work out for an hour in the middle of the night, listening to some heavy metal and in the end, he felt sore, yes, but also strangely rested, like he dropped a weight off his shoulders, while, in fact he did almost the opposite.

OK, why lie again. It worked perfectly for me to work out for an hour or so in the middle of the night, listening to some heavy metal and in the end, I felt sore, but also strangely rested, and I felt like being alone, and wanting to speak to someone or hear another person’s story was no longer a need for me. I just wanted to lie on my back on the floor and listen to silence. Listen to the air, like Henry said. I required nothing else. I just existed, and it felt amazing. My heart rate was dropping from rushing, my leg muscles were still throbbing, and the sweat was drying up on my back and neck, and I didn’t want anything. Just being. Alone, not lonely. I felt like I want this sensation to last for ages.

Then next day I feel wonderful crazy after having chugged down a bunch of coffee, now walking down the street, not known to anyone, ideas popping up in my head like pop-corn cooked in a microwave, and I couldn’t care less about world’s problems, or connections, or disintegration, or even air. Yeah, air. I don’t think about breathing for about 99% of the time. I only appreciate it when I am running out of it. It’s no longer a Bunch of Coffee Walk time. It is “I don’t care, y’all!” time. I am not lonely. I don’t care for word “solitary” and I don’t have time to play solitaire either. I am not interested if you need to talk, or you’re crying, or mourning and drinking. I’m in a crowd of people, but I’m alone. I’m not lost, but I’m gone.

the image was copied from https://www.nbcnews.com/think/opinion/lonely-you-re-not-alone-america-s-young-people-are-ncna945446 thanks.

Normality

(dedicated to Alan Turing)

In the eyes of the one who knows no care for mental pain

Our efforts of remaining sober and free to ourselves

Can be laughable.

How?! Is that so important? Get some character, have some dignity!

Oh, well, we gave that all we’ve got,

Grinding the stone farther down, keeping the patience and hope together.

But wait a second… how shall we know that they are the ones who got it together?

And yet, strangely, we keep calling them “normal”

As if their controlled drinking pattern is something supernaturally wonderful.

How will we ever know they don’t keep someone

In their basement chained to the wall, tortured to death?

Exaggerated? I hope so.

I also hope that we remember that putting normality on a pedestal is problematic.

All these making-sense-wonders with good advises on how to do things –

Where were they when we bled and cried and finally found our way out?

Another thought: somebody smart

(who may have believed in UFOs having parties with fairies in their backyard on Fridays),

Have said that normal is just a setting on a washing machine.

I think that’s exactly it and we shouldn’t worry much

About who is who,

As long as we know who we are.

And if we do things differently from others, it’s no crime.

If it works for us and doesn’t hurt others it’s all good in my books.

the image was coped from https://me.me/i/normal-people-color-white-black-metai-edb3c16ee4294397b439c4eb69e0e251. thanks

Brain Blues

You wake up and feel like you may have melted into the bed. You can’t get up. You try again and do get up, but you feel like someone dropped a piano on you. You should go back to bed, right? Wrong. You should go to work. You’ve already missed several shifts, and what can happen is… No, you don’t want to think about that.

You feel… bad, granted, but that word is so overused. So how DO you feel? Depressed. But you are depressed most of the time, because alcohol you drink so much is a depressant, so no wonder. And you can’t stop drinking, even though it takes all your money, and your friends hate you (or so you think) and no girls want you (it really is so). “Depressed” is too clinical and doesn’t describe well how you feel right now. You are… blue?

But who uses that word these days? You look disgusted about being “blue” more than feeling “depressed” or having a “drinking problem” or “having no girlfriend” problem.

But you’re not down, are you? Because “down” makes you think of The Clash, fever, and more alcohol. So…

Let it be “blue.” The blues, rhythm ‘n’ blues… Oh no. That last one makes you think of your father. Nope. We are not going down there.

So… you’re screwed. That’s for sure. How shall we proceed from here? How are you going to work, now that we know you’re screwed?

Let’s try one step at a time first. No, you don’t like doing that, or at least thinking that. It reminds you of AA groups, and you don’t like them. According to you, they take too much space, talk too much and drink too much coffee. OK, then what? What now? Who else are you going to be angry at?

OK, OK, I’ll back off. I went too far. I’ll retreat into the place in your brain where I belong. Let the proper faculty do the thinking work, right? So, me, the Hypothalamus, and my good friend (and your very good friend, or at least so it shall be) Mr. Motor Cortex are going to go have a snooze. You call us when you got some thinking done and you’re ready for action. We’ll be there in a quarter of a second. You use the rest of the brain, especially the Mighty Ms. Frontal Lobe. Go plan. Plan courage. Plan life.

the image was copied from https://medium.com/@funemployed/the-fucked-up-thing-about-my-brain-d0452006fab1 thanks.