None of this, of course, was intended to poke fun at the alcoholics. Our plans had been laid before Justin's last minute AA assignment. That's just how it ended up. It turned out to be all the better for both of us-- I got the week out of my system and Justin got another assignment out of the way.
What was really interesting were the stories Justin brought back from the meeting. There were over 40 people in attendance, a large number of whom were phenomenal speakers. I'm sure many of them would credit the years they've spent sharing their experiences in front of a crowd. Justin said they spoke about learning to live strongly and confidently, about their experiences coming back to life, and about their thoughts on the 12-step program.
Many of them didn't subscribe to the AA regimen, even though they acknowledged that it had saved their lives. They valued the community and solidarity more than they valued the sponsors and the spiritual aspects of the program. One woman credited Old Growth forests as her "higher power." I love the Pacific Northwest.
Justin shared with me a number of anecdotes and mottos, all of which I've forgotten at the moment except one, which is the subject of this post.
A man stood up in the middle of the meeting and shared his name and his story. He said, "I once heard someone explain that you've got two dogs in you... a positive dog and a negative dog... and whichever one you feed is the one that grows bigger." The man went on to explain that when he started AA he was extremely negative but now he's found that he's a much more healthy person because he can find the positive in anything.
He said he recently attended the funeral of his second child, a grown woman. The first had died of crib death years before. He said that at her funeral, he kept reminding himself that it could have been so much worse. He didn't say what happened-- just that she died young and happy, with a nice house, a good job, and a man that loved her. He said he was glad that it had been quick and she hadn't suffered. He though it so much better that she'd died at the top of her game, at a happy time, than if she'd gone out in misery.
Now that takes courage.
I've found myself thinking a lot about the two dogs over the last several days. But I don't like to imagine having dogs inside of me (it might be a little cramped), so in my metaphor they are flames. A positive flame, which burns brightly and clearly, and a negative flame, that sucks away the light. Whichever flame I feed is the one that grows.
I've been struggling not to feed the negative flame, in part because it's that dark, dreary time of year that sets me off, and in part because I've had to handle some baggage lately. Some my recent experiences have been learning to deal with a lack of sensitivity in others and in myself. I've had friendships struggle because of it. I even lost a few. I've dealt with insensitive clods at work and have even made career decisions because of it. And, unfortunately, I've had to deal with a lot of sophomoric bullshit spewed forth from the mouths of people who apparently make themselves feel better by demeaning others. I've overreacted, I've underreacted, I've, quite frankly, forgotten how to react except by feeling exceptionally bitter.
In short, I've lost a lot of faith in people. And I've lost a lot of faith in myself. I'd hoped that I'd be able to live my life mindfully as an adult, but this negativity has taken hold of my emotional wellbeing too many times over the last few months.
The saddest part, however, is that it's really all cerebral. In reality, I have absolutely nothing to feel angry about. I love my job, I love my fiance, I love my apartment, and I love all the new people I've been spending time with. But it's like I said before about how writing/blogging is easier when feeling down... in the same respect, it's easier to throw a bone to the negative dog than the positive one.
At some point, you've got to decide to grow the part of you that's good for you. Even if you feel hurt, or betrayed, or just insulted that the world is full of such petty shit. Even if, like our friend at AA, you're at your daughter's funeral.
It's the time of year when I need to remind myself to feed the flame that makes me who I am-- the one that grows my passion for life, rather than devours it. And likewise (in the other metaphor), it's time to starve the pitt bull of apathy and derision. Pitt Bull of Doom. Err, bah... whatever.
So thank you, Mister. I never met you but you inspired me. I'm ready to start being positive...
...I just have to get through tax season first.
Posted on February 05, 2007 @ 9:50 PM | 6 comments
Comments:
Amazing entry. Very raw. I think you are going to be ok as you see what the issues are and work towards them. remember the blessings you have as you articulated in the last paragraph. Sometimes the reminders help.
By 
running42k, at
10:43 AM, February 06, 2007
thanks, kat. sometimes we all need to smack ourselves in the face. in a good way.
By 
, at
6:08 PM, February 06, 2007
Why are you thanking me?
But yeah, I'm all about the good smacks. :-)
By Kat, at
7:05 PM, February 06, 2007
Apparently the new trend these days is to smack people in the face instead of giving knucks.
/ me slaps myself and Kat in the face
By Rachel, at
10:48 PM, February 06, 2007
Haha, yep it is, Rachel!
*slaps rachel in the face*
By Kat, at
6:10 PM, February 07, 2007
*slaps running42k, rebecca, kat, and rachel in the face*
Because everyone else was doing it...
By LazyLightning, at
9:36 AM, February 08, 2007
