June 15

HUMILITY MONTH: DAY 15: “I believe that the first test of a great man is his humility. I don’t mean by humility, doubt of his power. But really great men have a curious feeling that the greatness is not of them, but through them. And they see something divine in every other man and are endlessly, foolishly, incredibly merciful.” ― John Ruskin

I spent some serious time with this quote today. It is not my default setting to be merciful. This I know. As I spent so many years in ego and listening to the incessant chatter of the Screaming Purple Monkeys (SPM), I lived in judgment and total unhappiness.

I had no mercy in my heart, except for animals. They showed me what unconditional love looked like, especially the dogs I had around me in my younger years. Absolute mercy and unconditional love.

I remember being new and hearing someone say in a meeting, “Alcoholics and Addicts should never pray for justice; we have been shown already, incredible mercy.” And I heard that.

When we see a wrong that has been committed, we are sometimes the most self-righteous folks around. I find this intriguing. We are living in deep and abiding grace. Why would we not extend that to those others so dearly in need? We are frightened by the prospect of our compassion and love being taken for granted. I can see that, but so what? What if we are giving love to those who most need it? I believe that is the point, isn’t it?

I am not a big fan of the word “tolerance,” because I believe it has connotations of superiority with which I do not resonate at all. But, because the code of AA is “love and tolerance”, I want to be sure that is what I am extending to those in my sphere. Not just alcoholics and addicts in recovery, but to those whose crimes I sit with in horror.

My crimes were to be so horribly judgmental and cruel (in my heart-mostly) in my thinking toward others that I want to heal these traits. I believed ugly lies about others and embroidered the truth to make their lives into monster stories.

I have been given the extreme grace of a quiet heart and a peaceful life. Not by my hand, but by the gifts of a loving Universal Power to whom I brought all my life in tatters and crushed shards of my soul. I had completely destroyed the gifts of my life. This was the totality of my handiwork.

The life I have today is beautiful and makes me cry (quite often these days) with the wonder and beauty of how it has unfolded. Mostly despite my greatest efforts. While I am not, like the men in the quote, a great person, I do know that I do not doubt the power that works through me to do amazing things in the world I inhabit.

The gifts of recovery are unfolding more rapidly today. I have moments of tremendous spiritual connection with the world around me and others with whom I interface. I love my life more dearly every day. I did not expect these things, but here they are. I just wanted the pain and agony of living with the SPM and letting them take me where they wanted to go.

That was granted quite early on in this deal, at about 10-12 years of recovery. I had a moment where I got it that fear was destroying ME without any drugs or alcohol in the picture. And it began to be removed. And life unfolded in huge ways for me during that time. But the fear no longer dictated my world, nor has it come back so powerfully. This is grace. It is all grace.

And I want to be endlessly, foolishly, and incredibly merciful. With myself, but mostly, with those with whom I sit in quiet communion and with whom I walk in this world in any way.