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12 Steps and 12 Traditions Information and Discussions related to the 12 Steps and The 12 Traditions

 
 
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Old 02-06-2016, 08:07 AM   #4
honeydumplin
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Join Date: Aug 2013
Posts: 115
Default some step four

We start as usual, with nothing. Out comes a spiral notebook, opened so a blank page appears on both sides with either a four or five column approach, leaving plenty of room to expand upon the specific column marked “causes”, which not only causes a counter-productive pursuit for brevity, but a vehicle to expound way beyond the one or two sentence qualifier suggested in the original. And could that alternative instead provide helpful insight into the inventory? Given to the fact of how people really expose themselves during the sharing portion of the represented example, the conclusion would be “yes” from the perspective of both the giver and receiver.

Without further hesitation, principles, beliefs, institutions, and individuals for which I currently hold a personal resentment, begin to appear in the first column. These form what is called a “grudge” list, or a term which I resent already. I disagree with the terminology, and don’t necessarily have a grudge against anyone, unless of course I look at it from the standpoint of allowing them occupancy in my mind while they continue to adversely affect my contentment, happiness, or serenity. It is there that these irritations can gain traction, and if not dealt with, become resentments, grudges, and even full-fledged obsessions that rob me of any peace of mind.

Here are a few of my favorite things. I’ll space them out, and spare the bombardment of them all at once. My resentment started with simply a word. This is the word “impact.” Thanks to the insipid activity of watching entirely too much television process, the harm done to me is a widespread exercise of the local and nationwide degradation of vocabulary. What began with an innocuous term used to describe effect, has all but monopolized everything from participles spewed by a kitchen cook, to the verbiage sanctimoniously displayed on the ass end of Armageddon. Its overused ruse collides ad nauseam. It is frequently used as a noun, a verb with an object, and (more than I can imagine) a verb without an object. I’m ashamed to use it anymore. But my further confessional should not but limited merely to the word “impact”. Such phrases as “walking it back”, “doubling down”, “being mindful”, and the dreaded “at the end of the day” provoke more madness in me than all the other cliché driven mindless commentaries put together can unconsciously regurgitate.

However, looking at madness like this through the prism of a fourth step inventory sheds light on it from a different perspective. In other words, why am I mad? What is it about me that sends anger and sometimes rage over my psyche when I hear these phrases and terms. And the answer comes down to this pseudo intelligent superiority that comes forth whenever my pride is threatened, especially by people that I have put on a pedestal that never existed and often never seem to somehow fit into the standards that I have wished to personally impose upon them. Strange as it may sound, when I finally reach the mindset where in fact I genuinely accept that I am this way, and am very much capable of being the exact definition of what I deem “irritating”, then I’m willing to change. The sooner I acknowledge this weakness, and the weakness in others, the more likely I am to change the behavior. Otherwise, it will light the fuse more frequently. I’ll be inclined to react, rather than listen: a go-to defect, which usually gets me into trouble.
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Next on the list is a co-worker I choose to call “Paul”. Over time, and due to lack of interest, the resentment that I’ve had toward him has almost gone away. Proximity between us physically plays a role because the closer we are together, the more apt the resentment is to return, and I’d really like to let go of it completely. You see, Paul’s harm is more fancied than real. He ignores me, and it drives me crazy. I don’t want to come down off my high horse, and come right out and ask him what’s the matter. So we both ignore each other. It is not very convenient, because it takes more effort to ignore, than to co-exist in a work environment. What makes things worse, is that I have no idea what I’ve done to Paul. When I put it down in black and white like this, my stubborn attitude looks kind of childish.

And as the quandary is examined more from how the impasse affects me personally, I’m reminded of my need for social gratification, which internally pulls me in two directions, from extreme apathy to the point of wanting to please everybody. On one hand, I am a bit overly-friendly, while on the other I’m simply cordial and detached. A balance is struck. I am resolved to the fact that I may not be Paul’s friend, but yet I’m not, nor wish to be his enemy. In the overall sentiment of daily life, I can smile at him, with the sincere hope minus the worry, that I’ll do my part to be a decent human being toward him, while at the same time, not worried so much about the why of the whole thing, which leads me to the last thorn in my side.

The how and why of globalization, new world order, crony capitalism, corporate welfare, and the rising popularity of socialism. The contamination, ridicule, and marginalization of everything traditional, and the opposition of anything successful. I’m sick of being played, lied to, and manipulated by politicians, media pundits, religious zealots, and everyone else with a microphone, computer, and an attitude. I hate the United Nations, the IRS, the IMF, the European Market, and the Federal Reserve. Most everything is run by an abundance of stick-fingered, greedy, one-way quintessential know-nothings who want to impose their way of dominance on everyone who is considered an underling. I’m not a victim, but more a pawn sacrifice, continually fighting against a hoard of host whose only desire is my death of thousand cuts.

And it doesn’t stop with the obvious evil entity but the boasts of prior benevolent partnerships, often disguised behind charitable compassion. The Wounded Warriors and their exploitation of needless harm done to people involved in wars which have been proven meaningless. The Susan B. Komen foundation, and their minions making millions off of cancer and coloring the world pink. CARE and their conflicted ties to religious fundamentalism. NASA, NOAH, Planned Parenthood, and the United Way. The corruption appears to have no end. No wonder my generosity escapes me every time someone sets a table outside a grocery store to try and squeeze a little more money out of anybody with some change and a guilty conscience. And it is there that I see myself staring into the abyss of it all.

My little piece of the world that I do not know anymore, and the fear I use to protect it, along with my lack of gratitude. Why am I so passionate about things? Why can’t I trust the ebb and flow? Where’s the love I truly feel deep in my soul when I’m at peace with my fellow man and have faith in the universe, and why can’t I stay tapped into it? I’m obviously not there yet, but that shouldn’t stop me from chasing the elusive plateau of wanting to walking around in the world without getting so caught up in the negativity that desires nothing but to rob me of that serenity. The best path to that acceptance is a constant seeking of gratitude. To minimize my contributions of destruction. To be a blessing, instead of a burden. This seems to me the solace for my desperation. There really is so much to be grateful for, and so very little about which to complain.
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