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The other day, one of my kids was on a real heater. She thought every person she interacted with—including me—sucked, and she let you know it, too.

I knew right away what I should be thinking, which is that she’s having a tough day and is in a bad mood, and everybody has those, and everybody deserves the right to blow off a little steam around loved ones (within reason, of course).

Yeah, that’s great and all… but that’s not what happened. I immediately decided, without actually thinking about it, to fight fire with fire. It’s almost like my default setting is, “I see your level of assholery and I would like to double the amount of a******s in this conversation right now.”

So I did. She sniped at me, I sniped back at her, she sniped back at me a little louder, I returned fire… this went on and on until eventually I realized how silly it was to fight fire with fire. You both end up on fire—not a great outcome!

Back when I was drinking, I often did one of two things, neither of which was good. If someone was barking at me, I would either say nothing and retreat… or lash back out in such an aggressive way that it would borderline ruin relationships. It was totally fight or flight, and both were really bad reactions.

In sobriety, I’ve gotten a little better at navigating people who are on emotional benders. But I also have pride and an ego, and I occasionally find myself thinking, “Hey, I don’t deserve to be treated like that. I’m going to stand up for myself!”

Man, that is a dangerous thought because on the surface it makes so much sense. After all, we’re told in sobriety that we can work a good program, turn our lives around and not have to bow before anybody. But if you think about somebody having a bad day and giving you a hard time because of it, what’s the spiritual answer to that? Is it “Hey, go f— yourself, nobody talks to me like that!”

Or is it the quiet realization that there’s a lot of sickness and suffering out there in the world, and sometimes it comes out sideways for people, and that maybe I can provide a sounding board and a little grace as this person ranting and raving in front of me works through their stuff?

I think the second option is much better for a sober life, though, as I admitted earlier, I didn’t do that recently for my daughter.

When I did realize what was happening and my role in it, I dialed down my reactions and just listened, even as she blew off some serious steam. And what I found was, five minutes later, her volume was way lower than before, and she seemed to have worked through her stuff. Turns out, she had a very difficult day and had a little outburst because of it, and by just letting her throw fastballs at my head and not reacting, we both got to a better place.

I also spent some time thinking about all the various shitty attitudes that I sometimes experience from others… then adopt myself. It’s a lot.

Somebody’s angry, I sometimes get angry too.

Somebody is doing the “Oh, poor me, the world sucks” self-pity thing, I take that on.

Somebody is firing off gossip, I dig into my gossip war chest and look at how I can contribute.

That’s a pretty shitty way to go through life, and it usually means my spirituality is pretty flimsy and susceptible to melting down. When I know who I am and my worth to the world, I am much less likely to join you in s**t-talking Biff from the accounting department.

I’d like to think that interaction with my daughter was maybe an important lesson that got hammered home yet again. But… I guess we’ll see. Something tells me if you show up outside my house and start complaining about the traffic, I will join in within 3.7 seconds.

This newsletter is a place of joy and laughter about the deadly serious business of sobriety. So, as I will often do, let me close with a joke:

Friday night at the convention, two police officers watched as thousands of alcoholics streamed toward the stadium, singing, laughing, and shouting.

“Isn’t AA marvelous?” exclaimed the first officer. “Here are all these alcoholics, and not one of them is drinking!”

“Yes” replied the second, eyeing the crowd a little nervously. “Let’s just hope it keeps working until Sunday.”

(Credit: AA Grapevine, October 2000, Anonymous from Minneapolis, Minnesota)

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