The Journey's the Thing…

I’ve been driving a bunch of guys around to meetings recently. I find that this is the kind of tangible service that I find spiritually fulfilling and socially enjoyable. There’s nothing more funny than a carload of sober drunks driving around the woods of my rural state en route to an AA meeting. The things that come out of our mouths can be pretty surprising, but there is great healing as well. The serious talk is off set by the craziness of the world around us and our unique views through the car windows of life. It definitely keeps me sober.

I’m the new Literature Guy for a group near where I live. I was given a $300 budget for my book order and came in under by about $30, so I’m happy. By next week the group will have 15 new big books plus some 12/12, Daily Reflections, and As Bill Sees It. For those of you not in the loop, those are popular and well regarded AA books, essential to my, and countless others’, sobriety.

I traveled to The Big City today with mom to visit her lawyer and take care of some family business. When we were done we had about 1 1/2 hours to spare before the train back home, so we had a nice walk through the park. At first she seemed hesitant to go, but once we were there it turned out great. We walked into the quiet of the pathways and trees out of the noise and traffic of a city in a constant state of movement and action. It makes me think of the inside of a bees nest. There is always something happening in The Big City. In the park there was reflection and people moving at many different speeds: running, walking, strolling, sitting, sleeping. Mom thanked me on the cabride back to The Big City Train Station. I felt connected at that moment. This was something that we had never done together. We didn’t rush the time. I would have never done that when drinking. Never. So much has changed.

On the way home we stopped at the polls and voted in the local elections. One must partake in one’s civic duty, if one wants to be able to bitch about how much the system is going down the tubes…

Being Tuesday, here are the haiku, on time, for a change…

#137.
Rising and falling
advancing and receding
natural movements.

#157.
I prefer mornings
with its fresh news: life and death
going on outside.

#170.
I can see the barn,
across the winter meadow,
from the road’s shoulder.

Johnnyboy

…And I’m currently deja vu-ing away. This is so strange. I swear that I already named a post “Thanksgiving, memories,…” Very odd. I like the experience of Deja vu, of course, but it makes me a little creeped out in some ways. Does this mean that the future cannot be changed, or that our minds are just having a little hiccup or something? Are there people who do not know the feeling of Deja vu?

I had a long talk with my father today. I’m going to meet him in the City next month for a couple of days and bop around with he and his wife, Kathleen. She’s very nice and we get along pretty well. There was never any idea of a ‘stepmother’ role as they were married when I was in my 20s and too mature (right!) for another mother. But it was a good chat today and we spoke about old friends and typical family stuff. I confirmed the date of his last visit to my sister up north (10 years ago), so if I ever have to trot out that piece of info, I can. I have a feeling I’ll need it on Thanksgiving, when family stuff will come up.

It feels very good to be challenging the old illnesses in my life. Taking responsibility for my own existence and trying to make something of the foundation that I have built over the past 4 years is a lot of work, but to deny my past would be to lie about the present and defraud the future. That’s why if I have a problem with someone, I have found it’s best to go straight to them instead of someone else, and complain. I’m trying to grow up here, for Christ’s sake. I am extremely grateful that I have a loving and mature relationship with my father, my sister, and my mother. I’m even beginning to reach out a little more to cousins and not-so-distant relatives. I am accumulating a long list of friends worldwide and near at home who know all about me, even my “secrets”. They understand that the only shame that’s real is the shame from not reaching out and asking for help, being a friend, and accepting your part in all circumstances. No one is innocent. There are no angels. We have all hurt others as we think that they have hurt us. To run away and hide is not the way to break the cycle. I tried that for years. Confront your fear. Look into the abyss. What are you afraid of?

I ordered the turkey and oysters for Thanksgiving. There will be 6 of us for dinner: My mother, myself, my sister from the city and her husband, an old friend of ours up the road, and a friend of my mothers. It should be a good crowd.

I always worry about oven space. The food will be classic T’giving fare–nothing too off the wall. No need to challenge anyone on a day of rest and relaxation.

I’m currently watching “The Prisoner” on DVD. Very cool and surreal 1960’s pop spy TV. There are definitely some Dali-esque elements in some of the indoor stage sets, and the whole feeling is of swinging London a la Rene Magritte.

Johnnyboy