A Jobian Life
William Blake, Illustrations of the Book of Job
As a kid, I used to look for trouble. Not because I was a bad kid, but because I wanted to test my ability to get out of said trouble. I used to get in a lot of trouble. I also used to get out of a lot of trouble.
The trouble I got in seemed to grow more difficult as I grew. But still, I seemed to get out of most everything I got myself into.
Over time, the cycle continued. Bigger trouble followed by a more difficult escape. I was like Houdini constantly in a battle with my internal desire to push myself; to punish myself. Soon the trouble stopped just being about avoiding a bad grade or a grounding, but about fixing hearts, bank accounts, expectations and disappointment.
At some point, I stopped trying to get into trouble, but like the proverbial bad penny, trouble seemed to find me.
Your troubles are your troubles.
Growing up, I was always taught that the mistakes we made and the difficulties we faced were ours and ours alone. It was not right to burden others with the pain we were feeling. The fast onset of being overwhelmed.
And as my ability to solve every problem slipped from my hands, drugs slipped in, and I found that my troubles were less…immediate. What I didn’t realize is that my troubles had just learned how to be invisible to me but bright, loud and in the faces of people I loved.
Most of those people stopped loving me, but that was my trouble to bear.
When I finally decided to choose sobriety, I made two rules for myself:
always be honest; even when honesty was painful;
always do the right thing; even when the right thing felt so very wrong.
and while, I never made this an official rule, a third one seems to have settled into my ethos…
3. Burden no one with things that add to their burden. Your troubles are your troubles.
While I have never been religious, I have read the Bible many times. Mostly as a book of stories with hidden meanings. I found snippets that would keep sneaking back into my head, even getting one tattoo’d on my arm.
yup. thats my arm.
Of my 25+ tattoos this one gets the most attention. People try and read it. Some ask me what it means. Others warn me of the folly of having God’s name on my arm. It’s one of my favorites because its about protecting friends, and more importantly yourself. It’s about the importance of beliefs and the dangers of believing.
I got this tattoo soon after I found sobriety. Over the years, I had a close friend steal (a lot) from me. Probably around $100,000 in total.
But thats my problem.
In the bible, one of my favorite stories is the Story of Job. In the story, Job is a good dude, living a good life. He is doing well, does good and avoids Evil.
Satan believes that he can take Job, the model of a pious man, and get him to denounce God. Basically, they were trying to prove Newton’s First Law (objects in motion tend to stay in motion unless an outside force acts upon the object).
As Satan visited holy hell (heh!) on Job, robbing him of his wealth, his love and his health, Job continued to focus on what he knew: taking the bad with the good. He handled his troubles, because thats what we are supposed to do, regardless of his wife’s insistence to curse God and his friends telling him he was a moron. His understanding of the importance of goodness continued to drive him. In the end, God rewarded him with more wealth, love and health.
In the story, there is a moment, when all of Job’s friends stop talking because they think Job is a liar. When God finally appears, he asks the friends “Dudes, you see your friend in massive trouble, why are you yelling at him instead of helping him?”
That was the moment that has stuck with me.
Sharing troubles is really the only way to solve them. We should not look at our friends that are struggling and give them a simple like or retweet. We should help them.
And on the converse, we, I, need to learn that asking for help is equally divine. Yes, my troubles are my troubles, but often the solutions aren’t mine to create and implement. Sometimes, they are yours.
The past couple of months have been hard for me. A few months ago I had a medical condition that caused me to lose weight (good!) because no matter what I eat feels like a punch in my side (bad!). I find out tomorrow if one of my cats, Winston, has cancer. Another cat, Max, got in a massive fight with a raccoon, and is pretty banged up. My dog, Billie, needs a hip replaced. Which means, I will need to find an extra $10,000. That doesn’t count the financial burden of my other medical issues (cervical surgery, etc).
In many ways, it feels like each new day brings a new trouble, as if I am being tested to see how much I can take, before I break.
It’s hard to say that I am overwhelmed out loud. After all, others have it worse, and who am I to burden any one with problems that are only big to me (A friend said “In Texas, we would just take the dog out and shoot it.”).
A Jobian life is a simple one. It’s one where we understand that our troubles are our troubles, but the solutions are shared. Where an extended hand is the truth. It is the righteous thing.
As a community, we do so much to change and help the world. Perhaps its time that we stopped looking to tweets and blogs and the words of the “successful” for hidden meanings, hacks and direction.
Perhaps, it is time that we looked to each other for support.
Here is my hand. Take it.