How To Choose Your People Chapter 4

Chapter 4 — Making Amends (0.375)

MAKING AMENDS (0.375)

Amends: Reparation or payment as satisfaction for insult or injury. – American Heritage Dictionary

Lucy decides to quit dating Oliver. He's crushed. Sobbing, deep in self-pity, he vows, "I'll do anything to make you love me again."

He calls, he sends presents and pleading notes. He waits around the corner for her to come out of her house so he can "accidentally" meet her. "Please, Lucy. Tell me why you stopped loving me. I'll do anything you want me to do. Just say you'll give me a chance."

"Oliver, can't you get it through your head that we're through? I don't want to see you again." His head slumps down, "Then what's the use of living," he murmurs, "I wish I was dead. I might as well blow my brains out."

A person Making Amends is living a constant apology – fawning, parasitic, groveling – trying to atone for some real or imagined wrong. His bootlicking servility is so tiresome that it's fortunate few people remain in this tone for long. It's more frequently used by transients, because when Making Amends gestures fail, the person feels more and more sorry for himself and hits bottom (as did Oliver here).

The person at .375 is propitiating, but he can't withhold anything. Here we find blind loyalty, the self-sacrificing, the suicidal martyr and "I can never repay you enough." He will wheedle, flatter, or debase himself to get sympathy or help.

The puppy is scolded for committing a misdemeanor in the corner. He lowers his head and slinks away. All is lost. But, wait a minute. . . maybe there's some hope. He comes back, licks your hand, wags his body and soulfully pleads for your forgiveness. He's Making Amends.

This is where we find the wino who begs on the street and the female heroin addict who takes up prostitution to earn another fix. In the corridor between Apathy and Grief, this is a soupy tone; but it's a good sign if the person is moving up from the basement.

WHEN THE ALCOHOLIC IS READY FOR HELP

The drunkard will go into .375 if he's trying to wheedle another drink; but the reformed drunk must also go through this emotion in order to recover. In fact, he may hit Making Amends going both ways. A person in Grief feels that everything is painful. If he slides down to .375 he says, "I'll do anything to get rid of this." When there is no constructive help forthcoming, he turns the pain off with emotional anesthetic – alcohol.

If he's lucky, one day, in a moment of sobriety, he realizes that his solution is now a greater problem than the one he was originally attempting to escape. His remorse moves him up to Making Amends.

Incidentally, we find here the reason why many drug and alcohol "cures" are not lasting. Taking a person off drugs is only a temporary measure. To be effectively cured a person must rise up out of Apathy and want to do something about his condition. After that he must continue to move upscale. If he stays near the bottom emotions, he will slip back into the habit at the slightest provocation.

Sometimes we see the drunk who makes sporadic resolutions to reform, but soon relapses. In such a case, a knowledge of the tone scale can help. He must know that the problem is not alcohol; it's emotion – the miseries he feels when no longer numbed by martinis. The cure is in raising tone. It is vital that he be in an environment where he gets high-tone support and not with someone who enjoys holding him down.

Jack elected the wrong profession in order to please his parents. He didn't think he minded giving up his own goal (to be a photographer). Twenty years later he was an alcoholic in the hospital for his sixth cure. The doctor warned him: "If you go back to the booze again you'll be dead within a year. Your liver can't take any more."

He moved up tone to .375 and looked for professional help. As soon 25 he discovered the cause of his Apathy, he quit his job and became a free lance photographer He hasn't taken a drink in five years, and he's cheerfully successful at his new work.

GAMBLER'S ANONYMOUS

A gambler bet his home against the house in a poker game. Expressionlessly he waited. When the final play told him he won, he merely nodded. A spectator, bewildered by the apparent indifference – especially the absence of enthusiasm at winning – asked, "How can you just nod your head when you've won twenty-five thousand dollars?"

The gambler shrugged and said, "You know when I liked it best? When we were waiting to see what the last card was going to be. That's when I felt alive. It's the only time I mean anything. Winning, losing and the money mean nothing, but in that moment I'm really somebody ."

The concept "I'm nobody" is an Apathy one. When a person finds something that lifts him out of it, even temporarily, he becomes addicted. Thus, to be cured, a person must come up a level. An organization called Gambler's Anonymous made this discovery. Its program, apparently, saves marriages, homes and even lives; but it works only when the individual admits he's powerless over gambling and that with the help of others he may lick the problem. Furthermore, he must realize that he could be "somebody" even when he's out of the action. This, of course, requires a rise in tone; but first he must reach Making Amends before he's willing to do something for himself.

ON THE JOB

A person working for a heavy-handed boss may eventually lose all confidence in himself and become apathetic about his own judgment and creativeness. Ifthere's a glimmer of hope that he can retain his job, however, he may turn into the weak "yes" man. In constant apology for his humble existence, he'll attempt the most debasing job to escape the "pain" of being fired or chastised. He'll probably bungle it, however. He's an apple polisher who keeps dropping the apple in the mud in frenetic attempts to please.

SUMMARY

Any time a person experiences a deep disappointment, is wronged or betrayed, he may give up his goals and sink to Apathy. While in this emotion of heavy sadness, he's unwilling to repair the misunderstanding or wrongs that exist (whether his own or another's). He must move up to Making Amends. Then he has a chance.

One day a twenty-year-old friend came to me: "I don't know what's the matter with me lately. I feel as if life is going by me but I'm not even in it. I don't know what's real anymore. It's terrible. Anything would be better than this. What do I have to do to get out of it?"

Although his condition seemed grim, it was an improvement. For several weeks this young man had been dwelling in an "everything's fine" Apathy – the tone most difficult to reach. Now he was aware of it.

Although only a tiny rise, he was willing to do some thing about it. We talked awhile and he told me about the big disappointment that brought on his Apathy. He cried then, and after the bottled-up tears were all released, he skipped easily up the scale. He left with eyes sparkling and face radiant.

Making Amends is a weak, fawning tone; but it contains some hope. You just go from here on up through the blues, which is what we're going to do in the next chapter.