I went to a meeting this morning. On Tuesdays we read something from "Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions." Today we read from the 4th step. Today It was perfect for me to reflect on instincts gone awry.
I want more. Sometimes I am keenly aware of this, sometimes it is something that is flying under the radar. But it seems to be always present. I want more. Lately I have been told a lot that I am not only not getting more but that I may be getting less. And I am trying to be a grown up about it. Grown up is not always my strong suit.
Oh, you may see a 58 year old on the outside, but inside there is a small child who wants all of the attention, all of the love, all of the toys, and all of the fun. At work I want all of the action in my office, unless the action is bad, and in that case, it should be elsewhere. But in any event, I want to be in-the-know of every little thing that is happening regardless of where it is occurring. Holy crap.
Most of the time actually I do pretty well with this stuff. I have just described the extreme of this tendency. And most of the time these days, thank God, I am not there.
So, as I prepare to gratefully go to bed tonight, for some reason I remembered a woman I heard speak in Canada a long time ago. She told a story about when she was young she told her mother a lie about an American sailor she met whose name was "Spud." For some reason, I thought that was hilarious some 20 years ago, and for some reason I remembered it tonight. Who knows where these memories come from or why they pop up seemingly randomly.
I am so grateful that my brain is full of sober memories. 25 years worth of sober memories. What a good deal that is.
I will get through tomorrow. Another going away lunch for another person who is going away. I am sure I will shed a few more tears. For some reason today a man at work decided to reminisce with me about a co-worker who suicided a year ago. We both cried about that. I think I am the cry magnet these days. If that is a service, I guess I am grateful I can do it. I don't think too many people could. But I will be glad when it is over.
And I am glad I can go to bed now and read a few more pages of The Brothers Karamazov before I drift off to dreamyland.