I have an impressive capacity for gloom, censure, and dismissal. In fact I can muster these in respect of myself and my own life at the drop of a hat. It is as if the theatre is all lit up, players at the ready, just waiting for an audience. Pick a Greek play. Almost any will do. Except, of course, by Aristophanes. Far too cheerful.
Anyway. The error is forgetting I have taken Step Three. The problem with needing to take Step Three is that I have been in charge. Being a poor director, the results were poor. I was also my own audience, there to judge the show by how I felt. Feeling, of course, being the primary metric for success.
The relief provided by Step Three is this. Firstly, I never need to decide anything ever again. All I need to do is go to God and do what I think God wants me to do. Secondly, I'm not the primary consumer of 'my life'. It is not meant for me. Consequently, the worth or success of my life is not measured by how I personally feel about it.
That, incidentally, is almost entirely a function of forgiveness, amends, and service: if I feel bad, there is someone I have not forgiven, someone I owe amends to, or a shortfall in the practical devotion of my life to God. Joy is the natural condition. Ego throws a blanket over it.
Anyway, back to worth: you wouldn't judge the worth of Tolstoy's life by how he happened to have felt on a particular Tuesday or when he was thirty-six. It is the effect on those around us which is far more important than our own, personal, subjective experience of the lives given to us by God to do something important with.
Anyway. The error is forgetting I have taken Step Three. The problem with needing to take Step Three is that I have been in charge. Being a poor director, the results were poor. I was also my own audience, there to judge the show by how I felt. Feeling, of course, being the primary metric for success.
The relief provided by Step Three is this. Firstly, I never need to decide anything ever again. All I need to do is go to God and do what I think God wants me to do. Secondly, I'm not the primary consumer of 'my life'. It is not meant for me. Consequently, the worth or success of my life is not measured by how I personally feel about it.
That, incidentally, is almost entirely a function of forgiveness, amends, and service: if I feel bad, there is someone I have not forgiven, someone I owe amends to, or a shortfall in the practical devotion of my life to God. Joy is the natural condition. Ego throws a blanket over it.
Anyway, back to worth: you wouldn't judge the worth of Tolstoy's life by how he happened to have felt on a particular Tuesday or when he was thirty-six. It is the effect on those around us which is far more important than our own, personal, subjective experience of the lives given to us by God to do something important with.