Something to Protect

This morning I was offered an opportunity to become a mugging victim - an opportunity I politely declined, by running away. I'd been doing the same thing I've been doing at least once a week for many months (well over a year); power-walking in downtown Oakland at about 6:15 a.m. on a Saturday, to catch the 6:30 a.m. meeting that is, for all practical and spiritual purposes, my home group. The would-be mugger, a young black man, approached me from ahead, and at first I thought he might be one of my many recovery acquaintances, so my my guard was down when he surprised me by asking me to drop my wallet. He indicated he had a weapon in his coat pocket, but never showed it to me, and quite frankly, he didn't look like someone who could do me much harm without putting his own well-being in serious jeopardy. I mention all of this in "secondary elaboration" as none of it was going through my (conscious) mind at the time. I can only honestly say that I saw myself in an untenable situation, and responded to my first instinct - flee. He didn't follow (far, anyway - I didn't look back, and didn't run more than 50 yards or so). I actually gave him some parting words: "Nope." and "See ya later!"

I made my 6:30 meeting and felt (as I always do, maybe a little deeper today) warm, loved, and protected. I realize quite profoundly that I was being watched over by a loving higher power from the moment I got off the bus (OK, really, non-stop, and still). I realize that a lot of people might consider what I did "stupid" (I do - had he a gun, I could have a bullet in my back now). A million times before this occurred (my first ever "mugging") I would have predicted (and still, even now, fantasize) radically different behavior on my part. Letting him have my wallet would have been a statistically safer behavior. I'm unsure why I didn't. I like to believe I don't care much about money these days (and those who are closest to me know I'm not very much deluded on that one). I didn't have enough money on me to cry over ever, and I don't carry credit or ATM cards in my paper wallet (yes, you read that right - paper wallet - worthless!) He'd have gotten my transit pass (about $50) and my Starbucks card (about $30) - so he could have had a ride and a cup of coffee before I eventually got home (plenty enough people love me) and canceled them.

But - and it's the reason I'm writing this - I clearly had (have?) Something to Protect.

Since it's not about money, and it certainly isn't about my silly paper wallet (I get about a month out of them when I use the good 100% cotton paper - I love them because I can write on my wallet, see?), it's tricky for me to ferret out (with my broken alcoholic brain, anyway) what drove my choice. Things like ego, pride, self-centeredness, shame (avoidance?) - all of these and more of my known character defects are strong candidates. I'm already beginning to come around to forgiving the poor (probably) tweaker "left over" (as a friend put it) from Friday night's usual downtown Oakland "party". And yes, Virginia, though unharmed, I can have the loveliest vengeful fantasies (aka resentment) - for the mere act of attempting to get my stuff. What the hell is so important about my stuff???

I'm reminded of the first significant earthquake I experienced. I was about 22ish, in a college class, when the whole place started rocking & rolling (pretty gently, really - not much damage anywhere). Different people are affected by these things differently, I'm sure. How I was affected was by a sudden and profoundly unpleasant realization that something I had utterly taken for granted as being stable and reliable all my life (aka the ground under my feet) was actually a fluid which could mindlessly and without malice destroy everything that mattered to me - including my life, and the lives of others. That same realization is buried somewhere in my fascination with tornadoes and other wild weather and geological events. And no, this (failed mugging) isn't precisely the same (no harm, no foul), but the feeling (though not as profound) is the same one. Dare I say it? It's the feeling of profound powerlessness.

You see, though if I had a picture of my would-be mugger, I'd get myself a stamp with the words "EPIC FAIL" and publish it here (and maybe on DIGG), I know that's just false bravado in the face of my helplessness to control what other people will do to me, themselves, or each other. I put myself at risk every day, wherever I go, to a million ways of getting clobbered. Back when I was actively being a gutter drunk (still - just not active today), I really would never have asked myself these questions. I didn't care. I didn't care about myself at all. How could I? How could I care about you? Between then and now, something very strange has happened. I have to check this for ego at every turn, but I think the God Of My Understanding actually doesn't want me to surrender to fear, nor to abide fools, no matter how risky that may seem (note that "not abiding fools" doesn't mean harming them - avoiding them (e.g. running away) can be effective.

And I still don't know why I ran. I still don't know if I'd do the same again. I do know I'm going to my meeting tomorrow (Sunday) like I always do. REAL: I'll be paying more attention to how/where I walk and who I allow to approach unchallenged (or avoided). That sucks. Life on life's terms - life on the street. I'm blessed coming and going (no matter what transpires) IF I follow the lead of my Higher Power and make it about him (her, it, them, whatever) and YOU - but not ME. My deal with my HP (I made it in Step 3) - I do your will, you take care of me and all outcomes - it's still working; best deal I ever made.