Day 37. February 23rd, 2012. Little Suzie Creamcheese

It feels like I'm slipping in and out of a waking dream state when I meditate.  I've decided to go after that meditation festival.  I've been carrying around that flyer long enough.  If I want to increase my meditation, devotion and discipline, I'm going to need some help.  I'm tired again.  I over-slept.  I didn't hear my alarm until 8:20.  Some discipline.  I guess I really need some help.

Here's the problem:  My fiancee gets home late.  She needs time to wind down.  The mantra, "I will not harbor unhealthy thoughts anymore" has helped me this morning.  My thoughts wanted to drift to and lock on to her injustice and insensitivity.  But, I will not harbor unhealthy thoughts anymore!  I believe she is trying to help me.  And, if I look at my part in the dilemma, I realize that I drank coffee (strong coffee) at 10 pm last night so I could stay awake and work until midnight.  So, here's a solution:  no coffee after 8 pm.  I have earplugs.  I can wear them to fall asleep.  Maybe, I can get one of those face mask things.  It's tough and it's only day 2 of this experiment in devotion.

It's funny.  I used to begrudgingly wake up at 8 am to go to work.  Now, I'm willingly and intentionally trying to wake up at this hour.

I had another Steakhouse dream last night.  This time, however, I was a busser.  Somehow, I had been kept on the payroll and agreed to cover a busser's shift.  And, I couldn't get out of it.  And, the General Manager was there, in cooks clothes, as if she, too, was picking up a shift, but behind the line.  She was bloated in the face, without make-up and talking the same encouraging b.s. she would talk every time they dropped some unfair and demeaning weight on our shoulders.  It didn't help.  I was still humiliated.  Thank God I woke up.  This one was worse than the string of recurring dreams I had last week.  I thought I was done with them.

Liz had some funny ideas about how she as a perfect spiritual being should behave:  quiet, ethereal.  I, too, have had funny ideas on how I as a perfect sober person should behave:  wise, loving but stoic, tough and all-knowing.  We both wanted to be famous in our behavior, her in her silence, me in my humility.  "Look at how wise and humble, yet approachable Scott is.  We love Scott!"  She wanted to be the quietest girl they had ever met at the Ashram.  I want to be the most sober.

But, the Ashram had other ideas . . . for Liz.  They made her Key Hostess:  "Little Suzie Creamcheese".  "Whoever does the job needs to be social and bubbly and smiling all the time.
what could I say?  I just stuck out my hand to shake, bade a silent farewell to all my wishful old delusions and announced, 'Madam, I'm your girl.'"  p. 193

In other words, "Be yourself."  Or, like Polonius said, "To thine own self be true."  Or, like she quoted Sextus, the ancient Pathagorian philosopher, "The wise man is always similar to himself."  p. 192

So, it's time to let go of this image, this foolish idea of the perfect sober person, this embodiment of perfect sobriety.  First of all, there is no such thing.  Second of all, like Liz asks, "What's my natural character?  What virtues can I hone and what vices can I minimize?"  The first virtue of mine that comes to mind is that I'm a good listener.  The first vice:  I always want to be right.
Virtue:  Laughter
Vice:  I want to be the funniest guy in the room.
Virtue:  Patience
Vice:  Slow burn.  I bottle things up until I can't take it any more and then explode.
Virtue:  I'm kind
Vice:  I want everyone to like me.  Taking it further:  I want all the cute girls and sexy women in the room to want to have sex with me.  I know.  Fat chance.

So, I can listen more and only talk when I can be helpful, not just right.  I can turn off the T.V. at home and listen to my fiancee.  That relationship is more valuable than whatever fleeting crap is on T.V. anyway.  Nurturing a life-long relationship is more important the talking heads yelling at each other on ESPN.  It's tough for a guy's mind to comprehend that.  But, would you rather be happy or entertained.  I have found that I haven't died if I miss the latest development in the shortened basketball season or in pre-season baseball or the ultra-long NASCAR season.  Come to think of it, those are things I really don't care that much about anyway.  My song my change, however, once regular season baseball starts.  I love baseball.  And, so does my fiancee.  Anyway, I can talk to others rather than talk at them.  I can ask some one how they're doing rather than hiding by focusing on some meaningless thing on my phone (most likely, a game of Jewelquest), thus avoiding an uncomfortable social situation.  I can reach out more.  I'm a smart guy.  I'm a talented actor and writer.  Perhaps, I can help others realize their potential.

Then, I wonder:  what is my "Little Suzie Creamcheese" job?