So I bought a pineapple when I was @ Costco the other day to pick up my eye glasses. Spoiler alert: Costco glasses are just a crap ton cheaper than anything else on the market. They do good work for a VERY reasonable price and I'm now a loyal and true Costco eyeglass customer.
It's surreal to be walking through the warehouse and having all the samples available and having zip interest in trying any of them. Like Invasion of the Body Snatchers bizarre. But I smiled to myself and Mike (you met him a few posts ago) that what was once a cart of snacks, processed foods and frozen unhealthy things was now full of chicken apple sausages, plain yogurt, frozen berries and enough fresh produce to make The Rock impressed. What a change has occurred. It was not lost on me.
As a challenge to my serenity I got talked into attempting to change my cellphone carrier from T-Mobile (sprint) to AT&T. The sales girl who was 19 years old (bless her heart!) was very friendly and efficient and good at what she does. She was almost successful in her goal. Where she lost me was when there was some technical barrier to getting my account and phone number changed over. The tech support person was very hard to understand and the connection was very bad. After giving the process over an hour (Seriously Kathy??? Did Catholic school teach you nothing about prolonged suffering?) I cut my losses and walked away. I was able to talk to her boss and let him know that she was great. Its the back end that lost the sale for her and I felt bad because she has no control over that. My friend Rosemarie was supremely impressed by my calm, cool and collected handling of what was a long frustrating and ultimately unfruitful endeavor. I felt like a spiritual Padawan being tested by the Jedi Masters. I may have passed this first test but I had to walk by the food court to get out and that could be challenging. Luckily I made it out of there unscathed.
As part of my produce haul I bought a whole pineapple. What strikes me about the pineapple that I bought was that I bought it as though it was no big deal. We Americans don't even blink about having pineapple available in February in North America. We are a supremely privileged people and I hope we never forget that. The pineapple cost me $2.49 which is an insanely good price. I picked a green one and took it home where it was given pride of place in the fruit basket. And there it sat.
Fast forward and I got an itch to cut open my pineapple today. Cutting open fruit is always a risk. Will it be ripe? Will it taste good? To me there are few things more disappointing than a piece of fruit that looks gorgeous but has absolutely no taste. It is my opinion that our fruit farmers are meeting demand for softball sized apples at the expense of them tasting anything remotely like real apples. Thank Mike for Apple Hill.
So there I was at the moment of truth. Was I going to be transported to the shores of Waikiki, or was I going to be disappointed by bland tasting fruit. Not unlike 12 Step recovery, a moment of faith is upon me. I am at the point where I get to finish Step 2 and take Step 3. And Step 3 is making a decision to turn my will (thoughts) and life (actions) over to the care of Mike as I understand him. So I've been consciously trying to spend more time with the entity that is giving me willingness to do simple but not easy things ODAAT. I've learned that Mike is kind, loving, compassionate, humorous but never meanly, humble, honest, brave and always available. That's a lot better than Guido who seeks to undermine my very existence with mayhem and chaos. It seems like a simple choice to make.
But because Guido is the gift that keeps on giving, there's always that part of my mind that thinks, "Well are you SURE????????" As if my life were so star-spangled awesome when he was my spiritual Julie Steubing (Anyone too young for the Love Boat reference can leave now, Just kidding). But we addicts will always choose the detrimental familiar over the unknown. That's the insanity of addiction. We literally think, "It may be a piece of shit but it's mine and it's warm". And that's so sad. I feel grateful that I have so much proof of Mike's awesomeness in my life right now that I don't actually feel like it's a difficult decision. I endeavor to answer the questions in the laborious final assignment that my sponsor gave me with care and attention. Guido likes me speed through things at breakneck speed, with well intentioned carelessness. Mike is all about the slow and considered pace approaching assignments. He has high expectations because he knows I can do it. He has faith in me.
So, we're told that we only need a mustard seed of faith to begin the journey. I know without a shadow of a doubt that I have that mustard seed and it's more like a bushel of seeds of faith. I know that I can be open and honest and vulnerable with people because they're getting to see the genuine me. That's such a gift. I can be in situations with food where I don't have to struggle or stress. Because I know I am a COE and completely screwed if I even so much as glance towards Guido to get his opinion. I don't need to prove what a fuckup I am by eating something that could trigger another 20 year relapse. Because this I know for sure. I always have another relapse in me. Guido is in the corner doing Cross-Fit like a Gym Bro waiting to attack and murder my spirit. He's come close many times before. He almost got me this last time. I can learn how to have difficult conversations with people I care about as long as I realize that they have their own Higher Power and I'm not it. I have faith that I can cultivate the spiritual muscle memory to seek Mike and not Guido with every decision that I am faced with. My sponsor so wisely told me that every choice is a blessing or a lesson. I feel like if I stick with Mike I will get a lot more blessings than lessons.
So I bet you're wondering what happened with my pineapple. Well it turned out to be the perfect time to cut it open. A few days sooner and it wouldn't have been ripe enough. A few days later and it would have been rotten. Like Goldie Locks, I got it just right.
Maybe Mike had something to do with that.
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