dalin
11-03-2007, 02:06 AM
Love, Forgiveness, Compassion
I believe in the healing power of love. I aspire to the highest motivation and expression. Of course, I fall short. I know that God loves me utterly; that His understanding for my errors and foolishness are absolute; and that his care for my suffering and sorrow are beyond measure. Yet it has been easy to forget how much God cares, because so often I didn't care.
Perhaps I'm just human; and perhaps my consciousness of loving kindness is above average. But there were times that I have had trouble forgiving myself, let alone others. When I got clean, I had a pretty bad attitude. I felt defeated, frustrated, alone and bitter. Life and dope had let me down. Like any newcomer, I was still nuts. (That's the newcomer's job, being nuts -- so members can recall how crazy using had made them, and how crazy they'll be again if they go
back out.) I didn't have much good to say about myself, let alone anyone else. The human condition seemed pretty bleak, and I saw myself opting for the lesser of two evils: suffer a lot
with drugs, or suffer a bit less without them. Since my attitude was generally negative, I had a hard time attracting the sympathy of my fellow addicts.
Oh, I had a yard-long spiritual rap, (having done a lot of spirit-seeking in my youth,) but most of them saw through it; and some judged me as a phony, and some of them have never given me a break to this day. What was missing from my rap was a depth of feeling. I knew that "God is love," but I didn't really feel it, because I felt unlovable. Still, a few members (mostly women) showed me a loving and compassionate side that I didn't feel from all the members, and that I wasn't entirely sure I deserved. These kinder addicts told me, "We'll love you till you can love
yourself, care for you till you can care about yourself, and respect you till you can respect yourself." They didn't bully or berate me; they just gave me a smile and a hug, and told me to
keep coming back. I responded to that loving welcome and stuck around.
In those days, a brusque approach to newcomers was often favored, especially by the men. While I could see the sense in using a no-nonsense, no-bull, non-enabling approach to newcomers
and new sponsees, I could not quite see why that had to cross the line into being cruel and mean-spirited. As much pain and embarrassment as I had already felt, I didn't need more. For some, it seemed as though membership involved some kind of "hazing ritual," and those who could withstand the beating got to stay. I learned later that those who gave out this treatment had been given the same business when they were new, by some members with a rather sadistic version of "tough love." In particular, those who joined somewhat "fraternity-like" sponsorship families experienced the bulk of this rough handling, sort of the price they had to pay to be accepted to the "brotherhood." The "frat boys" controlled NA service around here, and froze out the nerds and other "non-beautiful people" like me.
Fortunately, my first sponsor was not a member of those cliques, and didn't want to be. (They had abused him, too, especially in service.) He could be tough, but he never squeezed
me to make me squirm, or berated me to break me. He always showed concern, affection and respect. He could have a pretty sharp tongue for those he considered hypocrites. But he also
knew that they were just addicts in denial, and didn't plot revenge or punishment for those who had wronged him. One of the wisest things he ever told me was, "We're never gonna get these guys with politics. That's their game, and they're too good at it; they're in a league of their own. But we COULD supersede them by teaching Steps and Traditions, and raising the consciousness and spiritual awareness of the Fellowship. That's not their game, they're only faking at it, and they're hopeless to compete at it. That's OUR league. It'll take a lot longer; but it might create a more compassionate, spiritual and aware fellowship, which will be more able to defend itself against those who would be powerful and important -- and will be a much nicer place to live and recover in, too!"
Somewhere along the way, the political motivation became irrelevant to me. I think it happened because I was changing to a more and more caring person. As I grew to forgive and love myself, I grew more and more to forgive and love others. Even with those who had wronged me, lied about me and tried to turn others against me, I began to see them not as enemies who de-
served to be punished, but as tragic addicts in great pain, whose confusion about principles must make their lives hell. As I am fond of telling my sponsees, "There's no punishment I could dream
up for them any worse than that they'd have to be that way."
I went through some long periods of bitterness. The main thing I learned from them is that I don't have to live that way, and I have a choice about what sentiments I choose to entertain.
Despite some unhappy experiences in the past, there's nobody in the fellowship I wouldn't hug hello today. Oh, I might still not turn my back on them, or ask them to hold my wallet while I go
swimming! But I refuse to hate them, or wish them harm, or poison others' minds against them. They may think I am their enemy; but I don't think that they are mine. By forgiving them
for their anger and foolishness, I free myself from having to carry a stone in my heart for them, and I deprive them of the power to make me angry and upset in their absence.
Fortunately for me, the fellowship has changed a lot too. The tone is consistently more caring, sharing, loving and supporting. Those who once snickered and looked at me funny for "bringing up spirituality" are now the ones who are out of touch. God is at home in NA. Empathy and compassion are widely understood today as some of the goals of our recovery. (That first sponsor grew embittered over the bad treatment he had received; in time he lost interest in NA, and dropped out of recovery, though he stayed clean. Having taught me a lot about principles, he also taught me what happens when resentment eclipses them. I felt bad over this for years, and had to learn how to love him and forgive him for leaving; to have compassion
for his pain; and to not see it just in terms of "him letting me down.") It is said of the Buddha, that when he achieved total liberation, he could have departed this plane but chose to stay
at the edge of our world. So great was his compassion for his suffering fellow-creatures, that he didn't want to leave until he had helped the rest of us find the path to liberation too.
I doubt that I am ready to have the unlimited compassion of a Buddha, a Jesus, a Gandhi, an Einstein, or a Francis of Assisi. But I am far more compassionate than I was, and I daresay I can become far more compassionate than I am -- especially the more my heroes are those who are models of love and compassion. Gandhi always insisted that there was nothing to be gained by
humiliating one's opponent; that one must first understand how he feels, and win him over with love, rather than conquer him. In the end, he will see the wisdom in making peace with you, and you will win with love that which you could not win with might. This always is harder and takes longer, but it is the only victory that you don't have to guard forever against retaliatory attacks.
I have been a vegetarian since 1973. Part of my rationale is the desire not to take life for food. I don't use products from companies that abuse animals. I do not "lay my trip" on my
sponsees, and indeed, while most of them have improved their diets, none of them practice the strict vegetarianism that I do. I tell them to eat consciously, to avoid being the cause of unnecessary suffering, and to be responsible for their own health and diet. I recognize that not everyone has the temperament or perhaps even the need to practice the strict harmlessness that I
prescribe for myself; but all of us can raise our consciousness, become more compassionate to our fellow-creatures, more generous of spirit, and more conscious in what we do to avoid unnecessary cruelty in the world.
Some tough and angry people are surprised by the lesson that, just because a person is kind and gentle, that does not mean he is weak. Similarly, I have had to learn the hard way the
difference between forgiving others, and rolling over and letting others walk all over me. Permitting others to abuse me is neither loving nor compassionate. Indeed, giving people the
false sense that they can abuse others with impunity, sets them up for great misery. This is why parents must discipline their children -- which is far from the same thing as punishment.
(Discipline is just applying order to one's mind, and taking responsibility for one's actions -- not getting a spanking!) Sponsees, like children, must learn that there are consequences for bad behavior. If we rescue them every time they create a disaster, we keep them from growing up, which does them no favor.
If I fail to provide clear and fair boundaries, if I allow my sponsees to abuse my time and patience without limit, I do both them and myself an injustice. There is a way to correct another's bad behavior toward me that is both firm and loving. It doesn't require belittling, humiliating, punishing or threatening. It requires saying, "I respect you, and I respect me too. If you take unfair advantage of my good nature, you will need to have respect for others explained to you. If you continue to be selfish, you will have to be prevented from repeating that abuse."
Just recently, one man who wanted me to sponsor him agreed to do dinner and a meeting together, near his place, 45 minutes away. Three weeks in a row we made up to meet, only to have him cancel. I was on hold, not eating out in anticipation of seeing him. I finally decided to stop rearranging my schedule around the possibility of his eventually becoming available! When he is ready, let him call and commit to a date. Till then, I just assume he is not serious, is incapable of committing to a date, and showing consideration. (No, he's not a newcomer, he has 13 years clean. Some folks change very slowly...) My love for him does not require me to be a doormat. I was irritated, but I came to forgive him for his thoughtlessness, though only after I came to realize that his problem with respect was not about me, it was about him.
Conversely, some sponsors seem to be always criticizing and correcting their sponsees. These are often the ones whose sponsees hero-worship them, as though in a need for slavish
approval they must be elevated onto a pedestal where their boots may be more easily licked. With constant sarcasm and criticism, they create an insecurity in their sponsees, who in fear of
rejection become like eager battered puppy-dogs coming back for more. It is not wisdom that offers constant harping without praise; it is arrogance. We come in battered and bruised,
needing loving encouragement, not another beating.
I make a point of telling my sponsees when they are doing well, and of expressing that I am proud of them. I also teach them about the three laws of correction. That is, only offer
correction of others if you can meet three criteria: 1/ Is it true? 2/ Is it loving? 3/ Is it necessary? Sometimes correction is unnecessary because someone else has already offered it, or the one corrected already understands what went wrong. On the other hand, sometimes correction is not necessary because the one being corrected is completely unable to admit it or to understand it. And always, always -- unless a correction is entirely true of fact and honest of motive, and is offered in humble kindness, it is better to bite your tongue. Unless a correction meets all three conditions, its purpose is to please your perverse urge to put another down, rather than to help him rise up.
I must admit to frequent lapses in compassion, especially while watching the news. As one bizarre tale of politics and/or crime follows another, I tend not to sit wide-eyed and weepy, saying "How sad for them to be so blind and unhappy!" Rather I find myself grimacing and saying, "Oh God, what a hopeless moron." I realize that I am separating myself from the humanity of these hopeless morons, <g> but then I guess my practice of compassion
is not yet perfect. In a meeting, I do better.
Compassion means "to feel with," as though one is sharing in the pain or pleasure of another fellow creature. It is greater than pity, because it doesn't look down upon another, but rather it empathizes with another, heart to heart. Somewhere between 9 months and a year clean, I "got" that it was not cool to roll one's eyes and drum one's fingers when a newcomer started talking crazy nonsense; for I had been just such a slave to my own insanity. (I didn't always stay that forgiving, but I did come back to it.) Somewhere in that same period I began to actually
feel glad when others picked up their colored chips. And I finally realized that a heart of compassion had awakened in me, when, after getting my own year medallion, I saw others get their own medallions whom I had seen get their white chips -- and felt joy and pride for THEM! I realized with deep satisfaction that I was becoming the kind of person I had always admired: those who felt real pleasure, rather than envy, at the accomplishment and success of others.
Likewise, I became able to feel another's sorrow. Even people who I did not like became more human and real to me, and I did not take pleasure at their misery or grief; rather, I felt sorry
for them. In time I came to realize that the most tragic figures were those who were totally lacking in sympathy for others. They were so obsessed with their own wants and desires, that they could never care about others. Their selfishness had relegated them to being perpetual newcomers, emotionally and spiritually. Because they refused themselves the pleasure of caring about others, they lived in a tiny world where happiness was extremely limited. Because everything was always only about them, whenever the world was not busy trying to please them and make them happy, they were not happy. And since the world rarely stopped just for
them, they were almost never happy! Wise souls have taught me, "If you really want to be happy, choose what is -- and care for others."
I have come to believe that God's love is the glue that holds the universe together. If we had any idea, even the slightest inkling, how much God loves us, it would knock us out! We'd be
speechless for two hours, and dizzy for three! With a God that loving, there is no way I can love God back the way God loves me. Fortunately, I don't have to. God's love is completely unselfish; so I can love God by loving others. In my more immature days, I guess I thought love was like a
bank; that whatever love I had was the love others deposited for me. More and more I have come to see that the love I have is the love that dwells in my heart for others. Rich in love is not in
how much you are loved, but in how much you love. Those who are stingy in giving love are poor in love; those who always have a hug, a smile and a kind word for everyone are very rich in love indeed.
For much of my life, I was lonely and angry. I never felt that my family was giving me all the love I wanted and needed. I was too hung up on addict self-centeredness, and could not see
that others were just doing the best they knew how. In time I learned to forgive my family, and even to admire them for doing as well as they did, given the bad deal they'd been given themselves. It seems that when we let God in, get past our self-pity, and stop blaming others for why our lives don't work, we can discover in ourselves more love and joy than we were ever
given, and more capacity for fulfillment than our histories might have suggested.
A simple prayer: God, please fill my heart with love, help me forgive others and myself, and help me to show some of the compassion that you have shown me.
Love and Blessings, David H. in S. Fla
:smile:
I believe in the healing power of love. I aspire to the highest motivation and expression. Of course, I fall short. I know that God loves me utterly; that His understanding for my errors and foolishness are absolute; and that his care for my suffering and sorrow are beyond measure. Yet it has been easy to forget how much God cares, because so often I didn't care.
Perhaps I'm just human; and perhaps my consciousness of loving kindness is above average. But there were times that I have had trouble forgiving myself, let alone others. When I got clean, I had a pretty bad attitude. I felt defeated, frustrated, alone and bitter. Life and dope had let me down. Like any newcomer, I was still nuts. (That's the newcomer's job, being nuts -- so members can recall how crazy using had made them, and how crazy they'll be again if they go
back out.) I didn't have much good to say about myself, let alone anyone else. The human condition seemed pretty bleak, and I saw myself opting for the lesser of two evils: suffer a lot
with drugs, or suffer a bit less without them. Since my attitude was generally negative, I had a hard time attracting the sympathy of my fellow addicts.
Oh, I had a yard-long spiritual rap, (having done a lot of spirit-seeking in my youth,) but most of them saw through it; and some judged me as a phony, and some of them have never given me a break to this day. What was missing from my rap was a depth of feeling. I knew that "God is love," but I didn't really feel it, because I felt unlovable. Still, a few members (mostly women) showed me a loving and compassionate side that I didn't feel from all the members, and that I wasn't entirely sure I deserved. These kinder addicts told me, "We'll love you till you can love
yourself, care for you till you can care about yourself, and respect you till you can respect yourself." They didn't bully or berate me; they just gave me a smile and a hug, and told me to
keep coming back. I responded to that loving welcome and stuck around.
In those days, a brusque approach to newcomers was often favored, especially by the men. While I could see the sense in using a no-nonsense, no-bull, non-enabling approach to newcomers
and new sponsees, I could not quite see why that had to cross the line into being cruel and mean-spirited. As much pain and embarrassment as I had already felt, I didn't need more. For some, it seemed as though membership involved some kind of "hazing ritual," and those who could withstand the beating got to stay. I learned later that those who gave out this treatment had been given the same business when they were new, by some members with a rather sadistic version of "tough love." In particular, those who joined somewhat "fraternity-like" sponsorship families experienced the bulk of this rough handling, sort of the price they had to pay to be accepted to the "brotherhood." The "frat boys" controlled NA service around here, and froze out the nerds and other "non-beautiful people" like me.
Fortunately, my first sponsor was not a member of those cliques, and didn't want to be. (They had abused him, too, especially in service.) He could be tough, but he never squeezed
me to make me squirm, or berated me to break me. He always showed concern, affection and respect. He could have a pretty sharp tongue for those he considered hypocrites. But he also
knew that they were just addicts in denial, and didn't plot revenge or punishment for those who had wronged him. One of the wisest things he ever told me was, "We're never gonna get these guys with politics. That's their game, and they're too good at it; they're in a league of their own. But we COULD supersede them by teaching Steps and Traditions, and raising the consciousness and spiritual awareness of the Fellowship. That's not their game, they're only faking at it, and they're hopeless to compete at it. That's OUR league. It'll take a lot longer; but it might create a more compassionate, spiritual and aware fellowship, which will be more able to defend itself against those who would be powerful and important -- and will be a much nicer place to live and recover in, too!"
Somewhere along the way, the political motivation became irrelevant to me. I think it happened because I was changing to a more and more caring person. As I grew to forgive and love myself, I grew more and more to forgive and love others. Even with those who had wronged me, lied about me and tried to turn others against me, I began to see them not as enemies who de-
served to be punished, but as tragic addicts in great pain, whose confusion about principles must make their lives hell. As I am fond of telling my sponsees, "There's no punishment I could dream
up for them any worse than that they'd have to be that way."
I went through some long periods of bitterness. The main thing I learned from them is that I don't have to live that way, and I have a choice about what sentiments I choose to entertain.
Despite some unhappy experiences in the past, there's nobody in the fellowship I wouldn't hug hello today. Oh, I might still not turn my back on them, or ask them to hold my wallet while I go
swimming! But I refuse to hate them, or wish them harm, or poison others' minds against them. They may think I am their enemy; but I don't think that they are mine. By forgiving them
for their anger and foolishness, I free myself from having to carry a stone in my heart for them, and I deprive them of the power to make me angry and upset in their absence.
Fortunately for me, the fellowship has changed a lot too. The tone is consistently more caring, sharing, loving and supporting. Those who once snickered and looked at me funny for "bringing up spirituality" are now the ones who are out of touch. God is at home in NA. Empathy and compassion are widely understood today as some of the goals of our recovery. (That first sponsor grew embittered over the bad treatment he had received; in time he lost interest in NA, and dropped out of recovery, though he stayed clean. Having taught me a lot about principles, he also taught me what happens when resentment eclipses them. I felt bad over this for years, and had to learn how to love him and forgive him for leaving; to have compassion
for his pain; and to not see it just in terms of "him letting me down.") It is said of the Buddha, that when he achieved total liberation, he could have departed this plane but chose to stay
at the edge of our world. So great was his compassion for his suffering fellow-creatures, that he didn't want to leave until he had helped the rest of us find the path to liberation too.
I doubt that I am ready to have the unlimited compassion of a Buddha, a Jesus, a Gandhi, an Einstein, or a Francis of Assisi. But I am far more compassionate than I was, and I daresay I can become far more compassionate than I am -- especially the more my heroes are those who are models of love and compassion. Gandhi always insisted that there was nothing to be gained by
humiliating one's opponent; that one must first understand how he feels, and win him over with love, rather than conquer him. In the end, he will see the wisdom in making peace with you, and you will win with love that which you could not win with might. This always is harder and takes longer, but it is the only victory that you don't have to guard forever against retaliatory attacks.
I have been a vegetarian since 1973. Part of my rationale is the desire not to take life for food. I don't use products from companies that abuse animals. I do not "lay my trip" on my
sponsees, and indeed, while most of them have improved their diets, none of them practice the strict vegetarianism that I do. I tell them to eat consciously, to avoid being the cause of unnecessary suffering, and to be responsible for their own health and diet. I recognize that not everyone has the temperament or perhaps even the need to practice the strict harmlessness that I
prescribe for myself; but all of us can raise our consciousness, become more compassionate to our fellow-creatures, more generous of spirit, and more conscious in what we do to avoid unnecessary cruelty in the world.
Some tough and angry people are surprised by the lesson that, just because a person is kind and gentle, that does not mean he is weak. Similarly, I have had to learn the hard way the
difference between forgiving others, and rolling over and letting others walk all over me. Permitting others to abuse me is neither loving nor compassionate. Indeed, giving people the
false sense that they can abuse others with impunity, sets them up for great misery. This is why parents must discipline their children -- which is far from the same thing as punishment.
(Discipline is just applying order to one's mind, and taking responsibility for one's actions -- not getting a spanking!) Sponsees, like children, must learn that there are consequences for bad behavior. If we rescue them every time they create a disaster, we keep them from growing up, which does them no favor.
If I fail to provide clear and fair boundaries, if I allow my sponsees to abuse my time and patience without limit, I do both them and myself an injustice. There is a way to correct another's bad behavior toward me that is both firm and loving. It doesn't require belittling, humiliating, punishing or threatening. It requires saying, "I respect you, and I respect me too. If you take unfair advantage of my good nature, you will need to have respect for others explained to you. If you continue to be selfish, you will have to be prevented from repeating that abuse."
Just recently, one man who wanted me to sponsor him agreed to do dinner and a meeting together, near his place, 45 minutes away. Three weeks in a row we made up to meet, only to have him cancel. I was on hold, not eating out in anticipation of seeing him. I finally decided to stop rearranging my schedule around the possibility of his eventually becoming available! When he is ready, let him call and commit to a date. Till then, I just assume he is not serious, is incapable of committing to a date, and showing consideration. (No, he's not a newcomer, he has 13 years clean. Some folks change very slowly...) My love for him does not require me to be a doormat. I was irritated, but I came to forgive him for his thoughtlessness, though only after I came to realize that his problem with respect was not about me, it was about him.
Conversely, some sponsors seem to be always criticizing and correcting their sponsees. These are often the ones whose sponsees hero-worship them, as though in a need for slavish
approval they must be elevated onto a pedestal where their boots may be more easily licked. With constant sarcasm and criticism, they create an insecurity in their sponsees, who in fear of
rejection become like eager battered puppy-dogs coming back for more. It is not wisdom that offers constant harping without praise; it is arrogance. We come in battered and bruised,
needing loving encouragement, not another beating.
I make a point of telling my sponsees when they are doing well, and of expressing that I am proud of them. I also teach them about the three laws of correction. That is, only offer
correction of others if you can meet three criteria: 1/ Is it true? 2/ Is it loving? 3/ Is it necessary? Sometimes correction is unnecessary because someone else has already offered it, or the one corrected already understands what went wrong. On the other hand, sometimes correction is not necessary because the one being corrected is completely unable to admit it or to understand it. And always, always -- unless a correction is entirely true of fact and honest of motive, and is offered in humble kindness, it is better to bite your tongue. Unless a correction meets all three conditions, its purpose is to please your perverse urge to put another down, rather than to help him rise up.
I must admit to frequent lapses in compassion, especially while watching the news. As one bizarre tale of politics and/or crime follows another, I tend not to sit wide-eyed and weepy, saying "How sad for them to be so blind and unhappy!" Rather I find myself grimacing and saying, "Oh God, what a hopeless moron." I realize that I am separating myself from the humanity of these hopeless morons, <g> but then I guess my practice of compassion
is not yet perfect. In a meeting, I do better.
Compassion means "to feel with," as though one is sharing in the pain or pleasure of another fellow creature. It is greater than pity, because it doesn't look down upon another, but rather it empathizes with another, heart to heart. Somewhere between 9 months and a year clean, I "got" that it was not cool to roll one's eyes and drum one's fingers when a newcomer started talking crazy nonsense; for I had been just such a slave to my own insanity. (I didn't always stay that forgiving, but I did come back to it.) Somewhere in that same period I began to actually
feel glad when others picked up their colored chips. And I finally realized that a heart of compassion had awakened in me, when, after getting my own year medallion, I saw others get their own medallions whom I had seen get their white chips -- and felt joy and pride for THEM! I realized with deep satisfaction that I was becoming the kind of person I had always admired: those who felt real pleasure, rather than envy, at the accomplishment and success of others.
Likewise, I became able to feel another's sorrow. Even people who I did not like became more human and real to me, and I did not take pleasure at their misery or grief; rather, I felt sorry
for them. In time I came to realize that the most tragic figures were those who were totally lacking in sympathy for others. They were so obsessed with their own wants and desires, that they could never care about others. Their selfishness had relegated them to being perpetual newcomers, emotionally and spiritually. Because they refused themselves the pleasure of caring about others, they lived in a tiny world where happiness was extremely limited. Because everything was always only about them, whenever the world was not busy trying to please them and make them happy, they were not happy. And since the world rarely stopped just for
them, they were almost never happy! Wise souls have taught me, "If you really want to be happy, choose what is -- and care for others."
I have come to believe that God's love is the glue that holds the universe together. If we had any idea, even the slightest inkling, how much God loves us, it would knock us out! We'd be
speechless for two hours, and dizzy for three! With a God that loving, there is no way I can love God back the way God loves me. Fortunately, I don't have to. God's love is completely unselfish; so I can love God by loving others. In my more immature days, I guess I thought love was like a
bank; that whatever love I had was the love others deposited for me. More and more I have come to see that the love I have is the love that dwells in my heart for others. Rich in love is not in
how much you are loved, but in how much you love. Those who are stingy in giving love are poor in love; those who always have a hug, a smile and a kind word for everyone are very rich in love indeed.
For much of my life, I was lonely and angry. I never felt that my family was giving me all the love I wanted and needed. I was too hung up on addict self-centeredness, and could not see
that others were just doing the best they knew how. In time I learned to forgive my family, and even to admire them for doing as well as they did, given the bad deal they'd been given themselves. It seems that when we let God in, get past our self-pity, and stop blaming others for why our lives don't work, we can discover in ourselves more love and joy than we were ever
given, and more capacity for fulfillment than our histories might have suggested.
A simple prayer: God, please fill my heart with love, help me forgive others and myself, and help me to show some of the compassion that you have shown me.
Love and Blessings, David H. in S. Fla
:smile: