Some of the best and most challenging advice I have gotten over these last 15 years of looking through the world with sober eyes is to “Keep it Simple”. An alternate version of this motto floating around recovery circles is “Keep it Simple Stupid,” and in either case, it usually works for a trouble or problem that I have labeled as hopeless or unsolvable, or requiring a great deal of cognitive turmoil on my part. My problem is that I often think too much. It is a habit that I have made great strides on, but that I find myself falling back into with some regularity. Not that I am against thinking, mind you. Some of the greatest advancements and inventions in this world would most likely not be here if it had not been for someone thinking “right now I’m giving thanks for the inventor of the Dremel,” but the things I spend my time and energy thinking about are usually not that impressive. They are more likely to be resentments, or worries, or frustrations about people or things or situations in my life that I find annoying. Like the fact that things always cost considerably more than I thought they would at the outset. Or that there are no “5 minute projects” when it comes to fixing things around the house. Or that I have 4 phones in my house, but when one rings I can never find one of them. Why aren’t they in the charging port – where they belong, even after I continually return them to that spot?
I never wanted to become a grouchy, grumpy, cantankerous middle aged man, but I often feel like I am on the edge of falling into the Archie Bunker school of charm at those moments when I once again find myself on a ten minute treasure hunt in the house to find the t.v. remote. How did it wind up next to the toilet? It must have been the Meathead who did it. “Edith! Edith!” For those of you young readers who have no idea who Archie Bunker is, Google it – or better yet, come back and read this when you enter your 40’s and have had children of your own. I have a plaque I found somewhere in my travels that reads “It’s not the mountains ahead that wear you down, it’s the grains of sand in your shoes.” I can relate to that. I feel very capable of tackling most of the large issues that come along in life – the ones you can see coming, the “mountains,” the expected problems, the predictable trials that come along and give me fair warning and time for preparation.
Take our vehicles, for example. We own a few cars. They are old. They need to have the oil changed regularly. They also need new tires occasionally. And chances are, since our “youngest” car was built in 1999 and has almost 200,000 miles on it, other things will break and require repair as well. Fine. I get it. I’ll do what I can to repair things myself, and put some money aside for mechanics to repair things I can’t. I’ll also pay for A.A.A. each year so that they can help me out if I do break down. My wife and I have made the decision that these expenses are considerably less than a monthly payment on a newer car. But the things that irk me about the cars are when I actually try to take advantage of a coupon, or an “Oil Change Special” that a repair shop is running and they try to convince me to spend hundreds of dollars instead of the $19.95 that was advertised. They justify this by saying that the whose-a-ma-whatsey in the car is showing some serious wear and could really use replacement. In fact, the car will no longer pass inspection without it. Luckily for me, they just happen to have a whose-a-ma-whatsey on site and can install it today. And they accept all major credit cards. If I refuse to have the part installed, I need to sign a form stating that I understand the imminent danger I am putting myself, my family, the general public, and the environment in by my ignorant and selfish actions. This form will be sent directly to the authorities and to my wife, who will never again ride in the car or allow the children to be part of my death wish until the part is replaced.
So most of the time I change the oil myself – it’s simpler.
For me, it is usually these smaller things, the unexpected pebbles of annoyance that irritate the most. Like a new product breaking down after limited use. And then hours on the phone or website trying to get the thing fixed. Why should I have to do this? Doesn’t anyone care that their product is cheaply made? Or that I have spent the majority of my time and energy today trying to replace the $23.00 C.D. Player that never worked, but that I couldn’t take back to the store because it was a Christmas gift and so the 15 day return policy is over and now I need to deal with “Tom” at the customer service call center whose accent is so thick that I find myself screaming answers to his questions louder and louder into the speaker phone “thank goodness someone thought about the speaker phone – it is a wonderful invention for our time,” in a futile attempt to break our language barrier. Why am I spending this time on the phone and not simply throwing the $23.00 dollar radio out and taking the loss? Well, because, as usual, I am taking a stand. A stand against the “throw it out and get a new one” country that we have become. I think we waste too much. I think we spend too much. I think we create way too much garbage. And I think that throwing things out and replacing them is exactly what these producers of substandard products are betting that we will do. Actually, I think that they are hoping we will do it. If they just wait us out and make things difficult. Keep us jumping through hoops and we’ll give up. And that doesn’t seem fair, or just, or right. So I sit and wait for my new friend Tom to return and ask me about the fried blue ketchup steak “or is it five digits on the packaging tape?” located somewhere on the original packaging that I do not have but will definitely need in order to be refunded my money for the radio. Without that, my only option is to send the item back and to have it replaced with a new one – and I will need to pay for the shipping on that – which increases my total price on the broken item to about $40.00, and leaves me wondering if I will have exactly the same issues with the new radio.
And these are just a glimpse, a taste of the daily decisions and trifling matters of my life that make it difficult to keep things simple. I know these things are not big deals. They are what my sponsor and other old timers in recovery would call “luxury problems”. Compared to a life of active addiction, these troubles are inconsequential – mere blips on the radar screen of life. I know that intellectually, but when I’m faced with them, it is so hard sometimes not to give in. I also know that last year at this time my wife and I were busy trying to coordinate medical treatment for her cancer. A majority of time was spent on the phones talking to hospitals, doctors, and insurance companies, all of whom had their own set of hoops, difficulties, and incompetence that we needed to manage and maneuver. So I try to remember that right now, at this minute, there are many other people on phones, and standing in lines, and scrambling around to various places as best they can to deal with issues – serious issues – that are far worse than the oil in my car or my broken $23.00 radio.
But these luxury problems continue to annoy me. I need to keep it simple. To not take it personally. To remember that, basically, every soul on this planet is just trying to get through another day, to return to their family and the people that love them, and that how I treat others, the things I say and do, are what really matters in the end. I need to remember that there are good people in this world. Many good people, who truly do care and want to do the right thing and to help. I have to fight the voices in my head that say that this person I am talking to really wants to make my life more difficult, or to steal my money, or to just make me miserable with the bad news they are giving me. These messages do not help me at all. They are toxic – like a poison, which I find myself too often drinking in the hopes it will hurt those that have offended me, or hurt my feelings, or wasted what I consider my precious, priceless time. In truth, the “simple” answer is that I allowed it. I picked up the phone, I made the choice, I heard the information that was given to me and instead of receiving it as neutral, strait forward information, I decided it was negative, personal, and destructive. Evil news that I then allowed to color my whole day “or longer” with a black cloud of negativity. Oh, and the best part is, I took that black cloud and shared it with everyone I encountered that day. I rained down that negative, destructive energy and threw in a few lightning bolts of my own just to make sure those nearest to me felt it and got soaked as well.
Keep it simple. Life is not happening “to me”, life is just happening. I have it pretty good. Actually I have it better than that. My life rocks! I have people who love me – who accept me with all of my defects and flaws. I enjoy what I do for a living, and in my free time. These things keep me busy and out of trouble. I am able to spend time with my family. That is priceless. I am healthy and generally at peace in my own skin. I have a connection with God. I can breathe, and live, and enjoy the things in this world that I never saw before my sobriety – things that are wonderful, miraculous, and divine. The simple things.
I mentioned at the outset that I first heard the “Keep it Simple” mantra in recovery. This is one of the catch phrases, the slogans you hear often around A.A. and other 12 step programs. It was interesting and poignant to me to find out that one of the co-founders of A.A., Dr. Bob Smith, is rumored to have given this advice to the other early co-founder, Bill Wilson, just before Dr. Bob died. Bill Wilson was, by his own accounts, not one to generally keep things simple. He was the “talker” of these two men, the one who was always dreaming up the schemes, and the hustles, and the ways to complicate the program of A.A. in an effort to make it bigger, and stronger, and more profitable. Bill’s motives do not seem to be questionable – he just wanted the program to grow and help others, and in the early days funding these things was extremely challenging. Dr. Bob was the quiet one. In all reports I have read, he, too, wanted A.A. to grow, but his approach was not to grab the nearest soapbox or to solicit the richest men around for funding. He kept it simple by visiting hospitals, jails, and other institutions of the time and asking to speak to “the worst” alcoholics. He would then speak to these hard luck cases and hope that God would do the rest. He relied on effort rather than outcome. Apparently after getting sober he also hosted thousands of people trying to quit drinking in his own home, modeling rather than preaching about recovery and A.A. His last words to his long time friend Bill W. were “Let’s not louse this thing up. Let’s keep it simple.” Wise counsel. I try to remember Dr. Bob’s advice not only in my own “program” of recovery, but also in the words, actions, and most of all the thoughts that constitute my program for living. It doesn’t always need to be hard, or painful, or complicated. I need to always keep it simple. Thanks Dr. Bob.
Brian,Again I consider myself blessed, I got to read this hot off the press. I could feel your energy , and you help lighten my day, and indeed keep it simple. I promise to pass it on. nOREEN
Good advice. I hope I’ll remember it when the trying times come.
~Chris
I too want to take it personally when someone inconveniences my life. I need to remember we are all just doing the best we can. I too am incredibly blessed. I need to remember that.
Finally getting around to reading these. Now I have a First Step folder on my email. I can so relate to this as I go through the same process to get to acceptance. Every day I work to turn things oveer more quickly.