Something I heard at my first Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, one open to the public, has stayed with me. Of course, I wouldn’t reveal to you what someone confessed, even if they were anonymous, but… today I think it would be Okay to tell you: partly because this was way back in the 20th century, and partly because it was a generic sharing, something that you and I would relate to. We are only human, right?
At my first meeting, a man shared that he was meaning to build a doghouse. But putting it off. But the longer he put it off, the grander he felt the house had to be. And his days kept passing, and he kept procrastinating, and his house kept getting grander… in what I might call a vicious circle. Even though, he told us, truly, the grand house only had to be a crude shack for a hound. I could instantly relate.
I was later to read in The Grapevine, their “meeting in print” how some alcoholics had a tendency they called “grandiosity,” a tendency they counter-balanced by calling themselves “drunks.” A girlfriend in recovery was later to tell me: “To think you’re ‘special’ is to be ‘terminally unique.’” Partly, she meant that if she spiralled into drinking again it could be terminal.
I could instantly relate to the doghouse man, even though I myself am no handyman. My fingers type, they don’t build. So I filed the lesson away, and went on with my life.
As it happens, my first ever self-help book was the New Testament, and I think, back in the 20th century, folks around me would say I was as humble as Androcles, the new Christian in George Bernard Shaw’s play, Androcles and the Lion. Actually, my best friend, who had attended Bible College, told me that to be like Androcles…
…overly humble, putting everyone’s needs before yours, to eat only for sustenance, to tell a lady your only wish is to make her—not yourself—happy, to paint some paintings unsigned, to beat your breast (unlike the Pharisee) when you pray, to feel always-sinning…
… is to practise “worm Christianity.” The students at Bible College were warned against it. (Actually, I guess only new converts had to be warned, the rest would have role modelled from actual Christians)
In recent years, with an “attitude of gratitude,” I’m fine. Doctor Freud said that all we have to do is learn to love and work. Yes, I’m doing okay, but…
When I find myself procrastinating for an awfully long time on simple things such as cleaning out my den, or my car, or… a drawer?—no, I do drawers just fine. What I’m saying is, if some normal people get their place cleaned up by inviting some company over, ensuring they have to clean first, then perhaps I’m being too hard on myself. Maybe it’s normal that I clean out my car only on the very day I’m taking it in to the dealer. And if I can’t see this then maybe it’s because I don’t see myself as being like normal people. Meaning at some deep level I’m still grandiose—Ouch! Not a happy thought. I try to tell myself: If my den is not cleaned up, then it doesn’t mean I’m supposed to feel guilty and deny myself fun; it doesn’t mean I’m some sort of criminal.
As for criminals and former criminals, convicts and ex-convicts, determined to go straight, they have a Seven-Step program. (AA is 12-Step) Do you know what their motto is? “Think Realistically.” Maybe in reality I’m not grandiose, just being fooled by society’s “should” and all those photographs in Home and Garden. Okay, well, maybe I’m a bit grandiose. I confess this is something I’ve only realized this month, while putting up Christmas decorations.
May I share with you? In this last month of the year I’m troubled—and enlightened—to realize this about myself. The man from Galilee said, “The truth shall set you free.”
Lord, let me think realistically.
I guess… “last minute” cleaning up, like “last minute” Christmas shopping, does not mean I’m a horrible human—forget grandiose, I’m simply real. I ain’t no “drunk” but yes, sometimes “I’m a joke.” Or, better yet, “Life is but a joke…”
As Tiny Tim said, “God bless us, every one.”
… …
… …
Sean Crawford
December
“Pray for peace, people everywhere”
2025
Footnotes:
~On YouTube, Lucifer sings All Along the Watchtower with the line “…There are many here among us who think life’s but a joke.”
~With TV episode footage, Lucifer sings Oh Sinner Man, where, be warned, an innocent security guard gets choked by a sinner, as a poignant a counter-point to the song. Link
~To avoid grandiosity as a creative, to avoid being a spoiled brat, I think it helps to get busy, to play, in the arena. Hence I posted an essay around Easter called Purely and Truly in the Arena.
