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A Sufficient Substitute

2011-09-28T15:23:00.002-05:00

“Have you a sufficient substitute?” We mustn’t forget this question in our efforts toward self-improvement. Whether our aim is to get out from under an addiction, break a bad habit, correct a personal shortcoming, or adopt a positive behavior, we require substitution. If we could simply make a decision and successfully follow through, we would have done so long ago. Willpower can produce immediate results, but not lasting results. After a while, we succumb to our previous state because we had neglected a key detail: need.

Every self-defeating attitude or action was developed over time. Its root exists in meeting a human need—how we learned to cope with life’s circumstances. Initially, the maladaptive behavior worked. It hardly appeared maladaptive because it satisfied our need. Given its nature, though, the behavior eventually wrought consequences we could not ignore. We attempted to manage the details, to control the outcome. Failing, we chose to change our ways. We corrected the effect but not its cause, the symptom but not its condition, the behavior but not its function. Without receiving due consideration, our underlying need drives us back to our maladaptive behavior.

When we remove some feature of ourselves, we are subtracting. Subtraction defines the difference of two numbers (“values”)—x minus y, minuend minus subtrahend. Minuend comes from the Latin minuere: “to diminish, or reduce.” Subtrahend comes from subtrahere: “to take away.” In Latin, the –end signifies “that which is to be … [the object of the verb].” Ergo, minuend means “that which is to be diminished or reduced” (the value away from which something [the subtrahend] is taken), and subtrahend means “that which is to be taken away” (the value taken away from something [the minuend]). As one would assume, the difference of the minuend and subtrahend is a value less than the value of the minuend. Thus, the minuend is us, the subtrahend is the unwanted feature, and the difference is less than what we were.

If you’re a geek, you know that a negative-value minuend and/or subtrahend won’t necessarily have a difference that is less than the minuend. For example, 5 minus -2 equals 7. We often apply this logic syllogistically to ourselves: If we are good people who get rid of a bad behavior, then our negative value is subtracted from our positive value; if a negative value is subtracted from a positive value, then the value will increase; therefore, if we are good people who get rid of a bad behavior, then our value will increase.

But the reason 5 – -2 > 5 is the inverse property in subtraction. Subtracting a negative integer from a positive integer is the same as adding the opposite of the negative integer. When we remove a negative behavior, we are not adding its opposite; we’re just taking away some characteristic of ourselves. Its purpose served a need. Without this characteristic, the need goes unmet. So actually, the value of the negative behavior’s purpose is not negative—it is positive. Creation designed us with needs, which we are intended to meet. The issue is how we go about meeting our needs. What should we do, then, to remove unwanted behaviors without denying our needs, without placing ourselves in a position to default, without decreasing the value? The answer lies in the inverse property of subtraction: adding the opposite.

“Have you a sufficient substitute?”

Character defects are the opposite of spiritual principles. And like the heads-or-tails of a coin, a character defect is one side of a characteristic. The other side is a character asset. This, I believe, is why God does not remove all our character defects (plus, they keep us humble). If we examine the nature of our character defects, we find their root. We find that these defects were developed in response to our instincts. We find that there were instances in which they worked effectively and may still prove efficacy. We also discover that we can satisfy our needs in other ways, through other methods, by the ethical opposite of our behavioral habit. You see, the opposite of stealing isn’t not stealing, for this fails to address the motive for stealing. We might steal because we want something that doesn’t belong to us. We haven’t earned it. So the opposite of stealing—the ethical opposite—is earning what we want. Lest we forget, covetousness is also a sin. Shall we trade one defect for another? Dishonesty for tactlessness, pride for self-deprecation, hostility for people-pleasing, sloth for useless busyness, manipulation for repression? Too often, our attempts to improve involve superficial rearrangements. We address the behavior without addressing the reason for it. We have an unresolved issue plus a new behavior to correct. We’re worse off than before—like the alcoholic who quits drinking but becomes unbearably irritable and still cannot manage life’s difficulties. Relapse is inevitable under such conditions. We mustn’t forget what looms beneath the observable.

“Have you a sufficient substitute?”

Cleaning the Base Boards

2011-07-21T14:02:00.001-05:00

I am preparing for my roommate and myself to move out of our apartment. The cleaning checklist includes dusting the base boards, sweeping behind large kitchen appliances, and washing inside said appliances. As I crawled on my hands and knees with a Pledge-sprayed cloth, I thought of personal inventory.

I often think of personal inventory.

The "spot-check" inventory has become a part of my natural processing. Without much conscious effort, I am quickly aware of errors in my words and actions. I promptly correct these. Like putting plates in the dishwasher and hanging bathroom towels, I clean up after myself in daily affairs through spot-check inventories. It's a good way to handle current conditions that might affect my spiritual fitness.

But what about the base boards, the drip pans, and the cob-webbed crevices hidden behind well-kept furniture? I regularly tell myself that I'll get around to those deep-cleaning items. Unfortunately, there never seem to be enough hours in the day.

In late March, my sponsor suggested another thorough inventory. It wasn't urgent; I'd done several, and I couldn't uncover more facts about the things I'd already examined. Nevertheless, I began the process as advised. Then I went on vacation to Costa Rica, followed by moving into my now-roommate's apartment. When I returned to the list I'd started, I felt no resentment. Or at least, I felt nothing new. It was the same names and situations from past inventories, matters previously explored and exhausted. So I put it away.

My sponsor brought the subject up again last month. This time, she suggested a different approach, a new way of searching over my life. I was excited to try it. Yet, I balked. After taking inventory of why I didn't want to take inventory, I realized that I am "like a boy whistling in the dark to keep up his spirits." I fear that my deepened understanding and insight will reveal facts I'm not prepared to face---and that will trigger a downward spiral of depression. [Note: There's a difference between being depressed and having depression. People who are depressed can "suck it up." People who have depression are mentally disordered.]

Now the apartment must be readied for a new tenant, another person to share this space. It's time to clean the dark corners. At first glance, the blackened grease and dusty grime will be a shock. I'll crinkle my nose and twist my lips as I reach out with a cloth. And then, wiping away the filth, I'll uncover the pure sparkle beneath.

Doesn't the same apply to me?

Letter to a Memory #1

2011-06-14T13:37:00.004-05:00

There are so many times I find myself thinking that I should be sharing this experience with you. You should be here, so I can turn my head and look into your eyes and have that split-second connection where we’re reading each other’s mind, that moment when I know with absolute certainty that I am not alone and never will be alone again.

It’s hard to go back to living when the truth has become an illusion.

I briefly imagined an alternate reality in which I had a million dollars—you wouldn’t have to work anymore, and you wouldn’t have to go to school. I could take care of everything you need. But then I realized, how selfish of me. If you left me because there weren’t enough hours in the day, then freeing up your time would leave you free to love me, so I’m thinking of a way to clear your schedule. In this scenario, I would deny you the opportunity to be self-supporting, productive, useful, challenged, inspired, and shaped. Life isn’t meant to be easy, and the process is what gives it meaning.

So busy focusing on how much I want to love and care for you, I haven’t stopped to consider that it might not be in your best interest. And it wasn’t in your best interest, was it? Isn’t that the reason we’re not together?

“This isn’t a problem. And you know how I know it’s not a problem? Because we’re not together. If we were together, it would be a problem. But we’re not. We’re never going to get back together.”

This is true. And so is everything else. You are my other half, the one I’d vow to love for the rest of my life, the man with whom I’d raise incredible children. You loved me more than you’ve ever loved anyone else, you still love me, and you will always love me. And we will never be together.

Inventory vs. Prayer & Meditation

2011-01-25T21:44:00.002-06:00

I'm watching The Incredible Hulk on FX and occasionally thinking about licking all over Edward Norton. This prompted me to consider my ideals, which (of course) brought me to the subject of inventory.

There are many ways to take inventory, and it's not all about resentments and fears. Life includes a plethora of emotions beyond anger and anxiety. Also, I have more things to consider than just the day's frustrations and mistakes. What is my financial plan, and have I developed a budget to support my goals? Where do I envision my life heading, and how might I achieve self-actualization? What are my ideals for career, family, relationships, sex, social conduct, etc.?

Over the past year, I have taken inventory of these things. Inventory has been followed by appropriate action. Now that I've had some time to begin working toward my objectives and to see the results of my efforts thus far, I am concluding that it appears to have been an exercise in futility. What started well has ended in disappointment. And now I see more clearly the implications of self-will and God's will.

It's a tough subject. On the basis that working a spiritual program serves to align self-will with God's will, I took self-motivated actions while practicing open-mindedness and willingness to accept whatever outcome I got. It made sense. After all, months of praying for knowledge of God's will for me and waiting to receive this knowledge had produced nothing. God hadn't called me on the phone. He hadn't struck me with sudden clarity and insight of His plans for my life. There came a point where I couldn't continue to sit around idly as the days passed me by. I had to go out and actually live life. So what do you do when you don't know what God's will is? The next right thing. I just started doing.

Someone told me that God's will is what happens. Simply, if it happens, it's God's will; if it doesn't happen, it's not God's will. And it's just for today. Things that didn't happen at one point in time ended up happening at a later point. Some things still haven't happened. Other things won't happen ever. No one knows. My daily approach to life involves taking self-motivated actions and seeing what happens. I don't know what else to do.

As mentioned, I have inventoried my ideals and ambitions and started putting them into practice. I've found myself facing a lot of disappointment. How could I, in certain situations, be so far off the mark?

At this moment, I'm remembering the first time I encountered the subject of my ideals. It was in the Fourth Step, near the end, following the sex inventory. "We asked God to mold our ideals and help us to live up to them." After that, we share all of our life story with another human being (the Fifth Step) and acquire the willingness to strive for living in the perfect image of God (an image which we will never achieve, but that's hardly the point). Then we go about making our amends and repeating the whole process of Steps Three through Nine on a daily basis, ad infinitum. So what about those ideals? Well, we ask God to shape them after we've taken inventory and to remove whatever defects of character stand in the way of our usefulness to Him and our fellows. And that's what we continue to do in Steps Ten and Eleven.

In the Eleventh Step practice of meditation, we are advised to thoughtfully reflect on a prayer (any prayer, though the Prayer of Saint Francis is perhaps the most common) that emphasizes spiritual principles. Once we are in a relaxed state of mind, we envision ourselves living according to the principles described in the prayer, acknowledge where we are now with how we are living our lives, and consider what our lives might look like if we were to move closer to this spiritual objective. Finally, we ask God to show us the way and provide what we need, and we thank Him for our glimpse into the realm of the Spirit.

That's it. Nothing about identifying my ideals. In fact, I have no involvement in determining my ideals. I ask God to do it. He's the one who shapes them. Through meditation, which serves to open my spiritual channel and consiously connect me to God so I can hear what He has to say, my ideals are further shaped. But it's all about God: His ideals, His purpose, His will.

I'm not saying that it's a waste of time to inventory my ideals and ambitions. Such inventory may offer greater insight to what is driving me in thought and action. But dude, that's not supposed to be my basis for living. Cuz that would be a life run on self-will. [Homer] D'oh! [/Homer]

The Search Begins...

2011-01-24T17:45:00.000-06:00

I'm tired of putting band-aids on problems instead of treating the problems. I finally met with a counselor today.

I'm not sure whether I'm attempting to reinvent myself or discover myself. Either way, the place I'm at right now is confusing and lacking in form. "Any way the wind blows," sang Freddy Mercury. My ideas of who I am are constantly shifting and changing shape. The problem is that circumstances will always change, so circumstance-based self-conceptions will continue to leave me feeling like I've lived the lives of a hundred personalities, not one of them my own.

I do still cling to the vague belief that I was made for more than this. No one can survive a dozen or more narrowly-escaped-death incidents and suicide attempts, and not think that there must be a reason: a greater purpose to yet serve. Why would I be so fortunate? Why have I been spared? What am I still doing here?

I'm making the effort to keep walking toward God, toward whatever His purpose for me, toward whatever person He has intended me to be. It's long, it's hard, it's painful; and most days, I hate it. But I'm still doing it. I don't know anything else.

And From the Depths, They Came

2011-01-22T14:44:00.002-06:00

I remember the day. A girl in my regular chatroom said that she had a journal online. I had never heard of such a thing. She convinced me to sign up for a journal of my own. Almost immediately after creating my account and posting my first entry, I received comments and words of welcome from complete strangers. I was hooked.

Over the next few years, I grew an expansive base of readers, fans, and friends through blogging communities and personal websites. I reached 60,000 hits a month. My life revolved around my perceived pseudo-fame in a virtual reality. Nothing was off-limits. I exposed myself and provoked others, I ranted and raved, I destroyed all conception that I could hold anything sacred. The only thing sacred was brutal transparency. I had pledged my allegiance to full disclosure, no matter who got hurt along the way.

I sobered up two years ago come February. In that time, I have resisted returning to the blogosphere. I feared disseminating information that might come back to haunt me, as it so often has. But now, here I am.

As I have continually searched for the discovery of my life's purpose, I've found myself at the same conclusion: it is to share my experience, strength, and hope with others. I can no longer hoard my thoughts and feelings, my perceptions and insights, my ambitions and fears. They are forcing themselves against the perimeter, pushing toward their release.

My story is not for me.