Painstaking Promises

Everyone who’s been around AA for any length of time is familiar with what many call “The Promises” – the list of benefits the Big Book describes as the consequences of working the 9th Step.¹  Even though plenty of other promises appear throughout the pages of the book, these probably get more attention than all the rest combined.

And it’s not hard to see why, for the list is very appealing: Freedom. Happiness. Peace of mind. A growing sense of self-worth. Absence of worry and fear. Intuitively knowing how to handle difficult situations. A growing awareness of God working in our lives . . . .  What’s not to like!

But despite the book’s guarantee that the promises will always come true sooner or later, not everyone who joins AA discovers them being fulfilled in their own lives. The explanation for that is given at the very beginning of the passage where these 9th Step promises appear:

“If we are painstaking about this phase of our development . . . .”²

That’s quite a proviso. It warns us that the promises don’t come true simply because we quit drinking and go to a few meetings. Not even if we go to a lot of meetings. And not if we get involved in service, learn to quote the Big Book from memory, and tell everyone we’ve hurt just how sorry we are. As helpful as some of these things might be to our recovery, none of it has much to do with the work that the 9th Step promises depend on.

In order to enjoy the 9th Step’s blessings, we must work the 9th Step – and not just halfheartedly, doing the least we think we can get by with. We must do what the Step asks of us, thoroughly and with complete integrity. In other words, we must be painstaking. We must fix what we broke, pay what we owe, and mend our behavior towards everyone we’ve hurt in the past. Trying to get by on apologies, no matter how sincere, isn’t nearly enough.

What’s more, in order to be painstaking with Step 9, we must be equally painstaking with all of the previous Steps. That means no shirking or skimping on any of them. If we haven’t thoroughly worked Steps 1 through 8, then we’re probably not even capable of a conscientious 9th Step yet. And if we don’t do the work the program requires for its success, then we’re just selling ourselves short and sabotaging our chance at real recovery.

Once the fog of initial detox lifts, unless we happen to be among those tragic souls who are “constitutionally incapable of being honest with themselves,”³ then our conscience begins to reassert itself. The more effort we put into the Steps, the harder it gets to hide the truth from ourselves. When we search our hearts we know whether we have been thorough and painstaking. If so, then we just need to stay on the path and trust that the promised blessings will follow.

And if not, then maybe we’d better revisit the first Step – this time with unequivocal honesty. There’s nothing like honestly recognizing the pathetic despair of an alcoholic life – and death – to inspire most of us to give recovery our very best shot, instead of cheating ourselves out of the promises God has in store for us.

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¹ Alcoholics Anonymous (New York: AA World Services, Inc., 2001) 83-4. These 9th Step promises are reprinted at stepsfoundation.com’s Promises Page, along with a discussion about these and other promises found throughout the book.

² Ibid, 83.

³ Ibid, 58.

And for more discussion about the 9th Step, see “Sorry Doesn’t Cut It,” right here at MyLifeRecovery.net.

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No Speeding in the Trudging Zone!

How long does it take to bake a cake?

Back when I was a kid one of my favorite desserts was my mom’s chocolate/chocolate chip bundt cake. Her recipe says it needs to bake at 350° for about 50 minutes. I tried to speed up the process once by turning the heat up to 425°. It didn’t work very well. The cake turned out lousy: dry and crusty outside and still gooey inside.  Yuck!

Experienced bakers wouldn’t be at all surprised by that result. They know that baking is both an art and a science. To make a scrumptious cake requires a controlled chemical reaction: the right combination of ingredients must be heated to the right temperature for the right amount of time or the magic won’t happen.¹ If you try to speed up the process by taking shortcuts, you’ll just end up with a mess!

Recovery is not much different. No matter how much we might want contented sobriety right now!, the recovery process takes time. Profound changes in attitudes and behaviors don’t happen overnight. Just as when baking a cake, we can’t speed up the process and still expect to get the desired outcome. That’s why the Big Book describes our journey as trudging the road to happy destiny.²

Though we can’t do much to speed up our recovery, we can slow it down a lot by not following directions. That’s what happens when we try taking shortcuts, like skipping the Steps we don’t “feel like” doing.

As AA’s founders discovered long ago, that approach doesn’t work.³  Even though we might make it for months or years without drinking, we’ll shortchange ourselves of the spiritual growth necessary to meet life’s challenges with serenity. Eventually most of us will drink again. The lucky ones get to come back to the Steps and start all over again.⁴

Another way to slow down the process is by deciding to wait until we feel better before doing, say, the 4th and 5th Steps. That doesn’t work, either, because we won’t feel better when the going gets tough if we’re just attending meetings. We don’t feel better and then do the Steps. Rather, we do the Steps first and then we get the benefits, including feeling better about ourselves and more hopeful about our lives.

In other words, we can prolong the insanity described in Step 1 by dragging out the Steps indefinitely, or by not doing them at all, or by doing them so superficially that we sabotage their power to heal our broken spirits. It’s our choice alone. No one else can do them for us.

What we get out of recovery depends on what we put into it . . . just like baking a cake. We can’t just wish for a cake and expect it to magically appear. We have to do the work. If we want chocolate chips in our cake, we have to put chocolate chips into it, and we have to follow the recipe if we want a delicious cake instead of a crusty, soggy mess!

If we want recovery to work for us, then we have to work at our recovery. And unless we plan to sell ourselves short, we’re best off following directions, just like we would follow a recipe. Otherwise our recovery is likely to turn out half-baked!

*   *   *   *   *

¹ See Kelly Stewart’s, “The Science of Baking – Kitchen Chemistry”

² Alcoholics Anonymous (New York: AA World Publishing, Inc., 1939, 2001) 164. You can also read the “Big Book” online, here.

³ Ibid, 59. “Half measures availed us nothing.”

⁴ If you’ve attended more than a handful of AA meetings, you’ve probably already heard several cautionary tales from members who tried doing it without the Steps and ended up just as miserable and crazy without drinking as they were before they stopped!

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Interrupting the Project – a Spiritual Experience?

My old buddy, P.J., says that every alcoholic is born with a project called, “What do I have to do to get my way and be happy?”

He also says it’s our job in recovery to interrupt other alcoholics’ projects.

Of course alcoholics aren’t the only ones afflicted by “the project.” Almost everyone else suffers it, too – except for those who’ve discovered that happiness depends on what we’re able to give, not get. But alcoholics are at special risk if no one interrupts our project, because we habitually use booze to soothe our frustrations with life.

And though drinking may promise temporary relief, in the long run it just makes us more miserable – so miserable that many of us end up dead much too soon. And sometimes we take others with us.

Some of us die literally, through overdose or heart disease or liver failure . . . or by losing control of our car and crashing head-on with an innocent family on their way home from a little league game. But most of us just die spiritually, losing all faith and despairing of life, while our hearts keep beating long enough to ensure years of suffering ahead.

So what does it mean to have our project interrupted?

It means escaping from our habitual obsession with ourselves – from preoccupation with our wants, our regrets, our resentments, our plans, and our disappointments. It means getting an opportunity to focus on someone else and their needs for a change. And it also means a chance at growing spiritually, for as P.J. also says, “Any time alcoholics are thinking about what they can do for someone else, they’re having a spiritual experience.”

The point is not to fear reaching out to others, whether just to say “Hi” or to ask for help when we need it. Too often we’re afraid of interrupting something. (Like “the project!”) We don’t want to be a bother.

But when we simply reach out, without demanding or manipulating or having any expectations, we’re not really taking anything from anyone. Instead, we’re giving others an opportunity to get out of self, even if only for a little while. And that means we may be giving them the most precious gift of all: the chance for their next spiritual experience!

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For more about asking for help, see Lori Deschene’ s “Tiny Wisdom: On Asking for Help,”, at TinyBuddha.com.

And for tips on how and when to ask for help, see the American Management Association’s “The Lost Art of Asking for Help.”

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Eating Healthier, One Day at a Time

A few weeks ago, my wife decided to change the way we eat. She had just read Gary Taubes’s Why We Get Fat

Taubes argues the benefits of low carbohydrate diets. His claims are backed up by results-oriented research convincing enough for us to give a carbohydrate-restricted diet a try.

Since then we’ve eaten no grains or sugars but only meat, fish, and eggs, along with small amounts of vegetables, cheese, avocado, and olives. Happily, our portions are large enough that neither of us feels hungry or deprived!

In five weeks I’ve lost 18 pounds, from 240 to 222. (I know better than to discuss my wife’s weight!) That’s a great start, but there’s a long way to go yet . . . and I’ve been down this road many times before.

Until reaching the age of 40 I had never been overweight. Then I made a career change that encouraged a sedentary lifestyle. In just a few years I ballooned from an athletic 210 to an embarrassingly flabby 260 pounds. When tying my shoes became a struggle, I decided to do something about it.

I started eating less and exercising more and I cut out junk food entirely. A year later I was down to 200 pounds and felt great – psychologically as well as physically. But it wasn’t long before I started eating snacks and fast food again, and gradually my weight climbed back to borderline obesity.

Since then I’ve yo-yoed between fit and fat several times, proving one more time that I underestimate my capacity for self-delusion. Although I knew I tended to eat emotionally sometimes, changing unpleasant feelings with a quick sugar fix, I thought I had it under control.

But the spare tractor tire around my middle said otherwise!

I’ve had to learn the hard way – by repeated personal experience – that certain food choices are almost like alcohol for me. Just as one drink can trigger a craving for booze that results in full-blown alcoholic drinking, so one ice cream cone can lead to nightly binges on Haagen Dazs!

Taubes’s book offers a physiological explanation for this sort of carbohydrate-induced food craving.² (Fellow baby boomers may remember the old potato chip advertising slogan: Betcha can’t eat just one!) Not only does the explanation fit my personal experience, but having recently detoxed from sugars and other high-glycemic carbs³, I now seem to be craving-free – which makes it much easier to stick to healthy eating habits!

There’s no telling how long we’ll stay on this low-carb diet. I plan to continue until reaching my ideal weight – though what that might be is far from clear.  Having lost lots of muscle mass in the past 20 years, I’ll never be a lean 210 again, so instead of picking a target weight, I’ll let the mirror decide.  I won’t start adding carbs back into my diet until the spare tire’s been deflated and I no longer cringe when glimpsing my reflection!

Regardless of whether that happens at 200 pounds or at 185, my past experience with drinking and smoking and spending and everything else tells me that if I keep doing what works, one day at a time, I’ll get there. Maybe not as quickly as I want, but that’s a good thing, too, because it allows plenty of time to integrate healthier eating habits into my daily life. After that, I just need to stick with it and seek my Higher Power’s help when tempted to make unhealthy food choices . . . and that, too, just one day at a time!

* * * * *

¹ Gary Taubes, Why We Get Fat: And What To Do about It (New York: Knopf, 2010)

² What some have called the “Carbohydrate Hypothesis of Obesity” is not without controversy. For one thing, it stands “conventional wisdom” on its head. To explore the subject in more depth, a good start includes Andreas Eenfeldt’s “Guyenet, Taubes, and Why Low Carb Works” at DietDoctor.com and Stephan Guyenet’s “The Carbohydrate Hypothesis of Obesity: a Critical Examination” at his Whole Health Source blog.

³ See “The Glycemic Index” explained on the Healthy Weight Forum.

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24 Years, One Day at a Time (Part 2)

Despite knowing that AA had helped many other alcoholics – including some friends and family members – I didn’t expect it would offer me much help. Not only was I a loner who didn’t feel comfortable in groups, but my prejudices suggested that AA had something to do with religion . . . and since I was a proselytizing atheist, I didn’t see how it could possibly do me any good.

The first meetings I attended only reinforced my misgivings. Members talked about things like praying and “turning your life over to God.” Even their practical suggestions seemed more appalling than appealing: Go to 90 meetings in 90 days. Get phone numbers. Go to book studies. Get a sponsor and “work” the Steps.

I wanted no part of it. I didn’t like most people, didn’t believe in God, didn’t trust organizations, and I feared that too much exposure to AA might brainwash me in my weakened state. The only thing they said that seemed reasonable was the suggestion to take sobriety just one day at a time.

“Anyone can stay sober for one day,” said a gravel-voiced ex-wino named Don who spoke with the authority of hard experience. “If you have even one day of sobriety, then you know you can do that. And if you stayed sober yesterday, then you know you can stay sober today, too. Don’t try to stay sober next week, next year, or for the rest of your life. Just stay sober for today and don’t worry about tomorrow until it’s here.”

That was a strategy that made sense to me. By doing hardly anything else but going to a few meetings while white-knuckling it and not drinking one day at a time, I managed to go several weeks without a drink.  The “one day at a time” trick was clearly working.

Then I heard another old-timer relate something his sponsor told him after attending court-mandated AA meetings for six months. “Okay,” the sponsor told him, “you just did six months for the judge. Now try doing it one day at a time for yourself.” Somehow that inspired me to do the same.

Going to meetings one day at a time meant that I didn’t have to decide to do 90 meetings in 90 days. Instead I just chose to go today. And by going to meetings just one day at a time, I ended up attending something like a thousand of them in my first three years.

The “one day at a time” principle worked in other ways as well. I started working the Steps soon after hearing another old-timer, Blackie T., say that “You take the Steps the same way you eat a steak. You don’t stuff a steak in your mouth all at once. Instead, you eat it one bite at a time.”

Eventually I got a sponsor to help me work the Steps. We focused on just one Step at a time, without worrying about the next one until I was ready to take it on. And by working just one Step at a time, I learned how to practice all twelve.

In the years since, I’ve learned that the principle of “one day at a time” works equally well in virtually every aspect of life. Work is more rewarding and less exasperating if approached one day at a time. So is marriage. Parenting. Living with cancer. Every challenge life has offered me has proven manageable when dealt with one day at a time.

Had I had learned nothing else from my association with Alcoholics Anonymous, the “one day at a time” approach to life would be worth the price of admission. But I have learned more. Much, much more. And as long as it helps me keep learning and growing, I’ll probably keep coming back to AA . . . but only for one day at a time.

*   *   *   *   *

For another perspective, see “One Day at a Time” at powerfullyrecovered.com.

And also take a look at Greater Milwaukee AA’s simple instructions on how to “Live One Day at a Time.”

 

 

 

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24 Years, One Day at a Time (Part 1)

Twenty-four years ago, I got a reprieve from alcoholism . . . and a do-over in life.

After years of trying to control my drinking and get my life back on track, I finally gave up. I will never forget how defeated and hopeless I felt when the physician who was treating me explained the physiological side of alcoholism. He said it was a disease, not a moral failure or a matter of weak will power, and that alcoholics were physically addicted to alcohol just like other drug addicts were addicted to heroin or meth.

Until then I never understood how booze had come to own me, but the explanation made sense. It fit my experience perfectly. Already feeling as if I’d been hit by a bus, my heart sank even lower when the doctor explained the progressive nature of alcoholism and said that it can’t be reversed or cured. I was doomed to get worse, he said, unless I managed to arrest the disease . . . but the only way to do that was by complete abstinence.

It felt as if my life were over. I hadn’t just been hit by a bus, but then it backed up and ran over me again and again. Never drinking again? Not much chance of that, I thought. How could anyone possibly tolerate life without booze?

As if to confirm my skepticism, the doctor went on to explain that the record of recovery was poor. He said that most alcoholics fail to stay off the sauce despite their best intentions – and the best efforts of treatment professionals trying to help. If I wanted to maximize my chance of beating the disease, he said I would need to join AA.

My mind snapped shut.

Up to that point, by the grace of God, my mind had been open. I had listened carefully to the doctor’s explanation of alcoholism and accepted the diagnosis. I understood what he said about the progression of the disease and accepted that I was probably doomed unless I could stop drinking completely. And I was even willing to try, though the idea of life without booze to take the edge off seemed pretty horrifying.

But the doctor’s prescription to join AA made no sense to me at all! Why would a respected physician – a man of science! – recommend what I thought of as a quasi-religious cult?

Could it be possibly be based on rational assessment of evidence regarding what worked, just like any other prescription for diseases like diabetes and cancer? That’s what the doctor claimed, citing support from the medical literature as well as personal observation over many years of practice: No other long-term treatment for alcoholism had proven as effective as AA.

But even though I knew virtually nothing about AA, I still rebelled. The idea of joining AA seemed more humiliating than being diagnosed as alcoholic! Intending to prove him wrong and justify my resistance, I did my own research at the local university’s medical library. But most of the journal articles and books I read confirmed that he was right.

That opened my mind just enough to grudgingly give AA a chance. And because of that I began to learn about the power of living one day at a time.

(Continued in Part 2)

*   *   *   *   *

See the Mayo Clinic’s online explanation of alcoholism and see also MedicineNet.com’s brief description of alcoholism as a mental illness distinguished from alcohol abuse by physiological dependence on the drug, alcohol, characterized by both withdrawal symptoms and the tolerance effect. Thoughtful readers may note how closely this contemporary description coincides with Dr. Silkworth’s observations published in “The Doctor’s Opinion” during the 1930s.

Regarding the efficacy of AA as a component of alcoholism treatment today, see the 2009 survey of relevant research, “Alcoholics Anonymous Effectiveness: Faith Meets Science,” and the NYU study findings published in 2007 as “Assessment of spirituality and its relevance to addiction treatment”.

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Compassionate Listening . . . and What’s Appropriate at Meeting Level

One of the fellows I sponsor (let’s call him “John”) recently asked my opinion about a meeting situation that made him squirm. During the meeting a woman who’s still pretty new to recovery shared that she was working on a 4th Step with her sponsor.  So far, so good.

But then she went on to reveal unnecessary details about her extramarital affairs that made John’s skin crawl.

It wasn’t just that he was creeped out by hearing about her sex life; what she said also triggered several thoughts he regarded as judgmental, and he didn’t want them taking up space in his head.  Questions such as:

Why is she sharing such personal information? Doesn’t she have a sponsor to rein her in? Is she advertising her willingness to have affairs? Will her example cause newcomers to think they’re expected to share similarly personal things in meetings? And how might that harm them?

If John were anyone else I probably would have turned those questions around on him:

What has he shared at meeting level that might be inappropriate? Does he ever have ulterior motives when he speaks? Does he consider how his words and example might affect others, especially newcomers?

But in John’s case I already knew the answers, for he’s an unusually conscientious fellow. If anything, he errs on the side of caution, speaking more from his head than his heart. That’s mostly due to his natural reserve, but also because I’ve advised him that in meetings it’s usually best to share in a general way.¹

Most newcomers – meaning anyone who hasn’t thoroughly worked all the Steps – seem to cluster at the ends of the spectrum from loquaciousness to reticence. Many are like John: guarded and reluctant to share personal information. Yet many others babble incessantly about themselves as if they were guests on the Jerry Springer show!

These two types have different but equally serious challenges to overcome on the path to sobriety, and even though some of them may rub us the wrong way, both are equally welcome in meetings if they’re serious about dealing with their alcoholism.

It usually takes both time and the guidance of a sober sponsor to help new members understand that what we share in meetings is not really about us. Rather, what we share are aspects of our personal experience that may help others better understand both the disease of alcoholism and the process of recovery.

That means those of us who’ve been sober awhile – like John – must learn to cut newcomers some slack . . . sometimes a lot of slack! Think about it: newcomers can’t share authentically about anything except their struggles with the disease, for they have little or no experience with recovery. It’s unrealistic to expect someone who’s scarcely begun to work the Steps to conduct herself with the judgment that comes after living the program for several years.

Nor is it helpful to discourage newcomers from being true to themselves in meetings. Meetings work best if they are safe places where shame-filled and guilt-ridden alcoholics can learn to accept and love themselves just as they are. That’s not to say they can’t be helped by some gentle guidance in appropriate meeting conduct, but if such “guidance” is judgmental or shaming, it may do more harm than good.

My friend John may have been right in assessing himself as somewhat judgmental. But if so, that’s also to be expected when we’re relatively new in recovery.

It takes years of actively practicing compassion before it becomes second nature. We must make a persistent effort to focus on our similarities and not the differences with others, and not just in 12 Step meetings but in all of our encounters.  Happily, because they often challenge our tolerance, meetings are ideal settings to practice compassionate listening – and that’s an unexpected blessing it takes time to appreciate!

So just what is appropriate at meeting level?

First, it’s appropriate to focus on our own behavior, not the conduct of others. Though there is much to learn from observing others’ behavior, we must always remember that we’re responsible only for our own.

Second, it’s appropriate to listen to others with an open mind and an open heart. Both are necessary to hear and understand what they’re really saying. And simply by practicing such compassionate listening we will grow spiritually in ways far more profound than any statement we’re likely to hear.

And third, it’s appropriate to share whatever we honestly believe will be helpful to others. Grandiosity and other forms of “self-will run riot”² diminish as we mature spiritually, but making sure that our purpose in sharing is to be helpful will help keep such character defects in check . . . and that’s what makes it really possible for us to connect meaningfully with others through the language of the heart.

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¹ Alcoholics Anonymous (New York, AA World Services, Inc., 1939, 2001) 58 – “Our stories disclose in a general way what we used to be like, what happened, and what we are like now.”

 ² Ibid, 63

For more on the topic of sharing in meetings, check out “How To Share in a Meeting” from TheLastChanceTexaco.com.

And to better understand what I’ve called “compassionate listening,” see Four Types of Listening. Number 3 is closest to what I have in mind. And note that the prevalence of this type of listening may be largely responsible for the unusual sense of intimacy found in AA meetings.

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The Buddy System

If you’ve ever been scuba diving, then you know about the buddy system. It’s been fundamental to safe diving ever since Jacques Cousteau invented the Aqualung. Diving with a partner not only means that help is available if needed, but also means you’re less likely to get into trouble since buddies inspect one another’s equipment to make sure it’s working properly before hitting the water.

Other risky sports, like rock climbing and sky diving, also use the buddy system to make hazardous activities less dangerous. Even the military uses it in combat, pairing up ground troops as battle buddies and pilots as wingmen.

The buddy system works in recovery, too. You might even say it’s essential to recovery, for none of us succeeds alone. The first 12 Step fellowship, Alcoholics Anonymous, was born when two desperate drunks got together to help one another stay sober. After a few years of success, they distilled what worked for them into AA’s 12 Step program – the first word of which is “We.”

Alcoholism and other diseases of addiction are inherently lonely. The magic elixir that starts by helping many of us overcome shyness and self-consciousness usually ends up alienating us from everyone and trapping us in soul-killing isolation. Real recovery depends on breaking out of that alcoholic loneliness and connecting with others like us.

That means going to meetings . . . but attending meetings is just the start. Like many a newcomer, I bolted as soon as they were over, thus avoiding all but superficial contact with other alcoholics. In those days I was suspicious and just wanted to be left alone to figure things out on my own. I felt too vulnerable to risk getting to know anyone – or to risk letting them get to know me.

But after several weeks, the time came when I felt so miserably alone in my non-drinking-but-still-alcoholic isolation that it was a minute-by-minute struggle not to drink. I couldn’t get the thought of some good Scotch with a cold beer out of my mind. In desperation I reached out to the God whose existence I doubted . . . and to some of the sober alcoholics I met at meetings.

One of them became my sponsor.¹ With his help, I learned how the Steps could relieve the sense of impending doom that had dogged me for years and free me from the obsession with booze. I also connected with two other newcomers who became my first friends in the program. We hung out together during most of our spare time, sharing our struggles, dissecting the program, laughing at our own mistakes and crazy thinking, and taking the old timers’ inventories!

That was during the summer of ’88. We’re all still sober, and today my sobriety buddies number more than a hundred. We help one another stay sober the same way scuba divers help one another stay safe. Through sharing the ups and downs of life over the years, some of us have become more than companions in sober living: we’ve become good friends who always have one another’s best interests at heart.

Make no mistake: meetings are critically important to recovery. In meetings we learn from others’ experience with living the AA program of recovery, and we’re given an opportunity to be helpful by sharing what we’ve discovered. We also get an opportunity to connect with other alcoholics who are serious about sobriety . . . and we usually find that they’re the ones with whom we share the most laughs!

Still, despite all the fun and laughter, the primary purpose of meetings is not to share entertaining stories about our adventures before and after, but to carry the message of AA to alcoholics who still suffer.² That message, of course, is that the Steps are a well proven path to lasting sobriety . . . and to a life that’s worth living.

But let us never forget that the first word of the Steps is “We,” that none of us succeeds alone, and that without the buddy system none of us is likely to get very far – or have very much fun! – while trudging the road to happy destiny.

*   *   *   *   *

¹ AA’s pamphlet, Questions and Answers on Sponsorship, offers excellent guidance explaining this aspect of AA.

² AA’s 5th Tradition . . . explained in the pages of Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions (New York: AA World Services, Inc., 1952, 1981) starting on page 150, reprinted in pdf format by guardureyes.com, here.

And see my previous post, “Sobriety Buddies,” for more about the importance of connecting with others in early sobriety.

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The Steps Have Nothing To Do with Not Drinking?!

Recently I attended a meeting where a fellow who’s been sober for more than thirty years said something that made me sit up and take notice. “The Steps have nothing to do with not drinking,” he said. It was a challenge to keep my mouth shut and not blurt out a rebuttal!

I understood what he meant. Except for the 1st and 12th Steps, none of them even mention alcohol, and none suggest anything like, “Go to meetings and don’t drink between,” or warn us that “It’s the first drink that gets you drunk.” But the speaker didn’t elaborate on his remark and I couldn’t help but wonder what the newcomers at the meeting must have thought.

If newcomers show up at meetings hoping to find help for their out-of-control drinking, and then hear a respected old timer say, “The Steps have nothing to do with not drinking,” what are they supposed to think? He might just as well have said, “Don’t bother working the Steps – they have nothing to do with solving your problem.”

The fact is that the Steps have everything to do with solving an alcoholic’s drinking problem! But they don’t do it by trying to teach us how to manage our drinking. For real alcoholics, that’s a lost cause. Might as well try to teach an amputee how to grow new legs.

Instead, the Steps offer a powerful set of tools for sane and effective life management. Together they comprise a meta-solution, not a bunch of micro-solutions. And they don’t even try to address the primary symptom of alcoholism: out of control drinking. Instead, they focus on changing the life attitudes and responses that inevitably drive alcoholics to drink again . . . unless they experience the profound mental and emotional transformation that Carl Jung called a “vital spiritual experience.”¹

We’ve see it happen again and again over the years: alcoholics and other addicts come to AA meetings hoping to get help with their problem. They’re told that the solution is not to drink (or use).  If they don’t take even one little drink, they won’t trigger the physiological compulsion to drink more and more, they won’t get drunk, won’t cause the problems their drinking causes, and won’t feel compelled to drink in order to cope with those problems.

Most alcoholics get that. If we really are alcoholics then we usually know the phenomenon of craving very well. But once we understand that having even one little drink can trigger the compulsion, most of us leap to the conclusion that all we have to do is just not drink and then everything will be okay.

If only it were that easy!

Sadly, many of us are slow to learn that for real alcoholics² the chances of just not drinking again are slim to none. The few who manage through sheer will power not to drink for a number of years often find themselves just as miserable as when they were drinking. Most eventually drink again and discover all too painfully for themselves just how progressive the disease of alcoholism really is.

For real alcoholics, there is no shortcut to a life of contentment in sobriety. The Steps are the shortcut. They are the easier, softer way. And if we apply them thoroughly and conscientiously to our own lives, the Steps are guaranteed to work – not by teaching us “how not to drink,” but by changing our outlook on life so that we’re never compelled to drink again. The Steps offer us the power to face all of life’s inevitable complications, disappointments, and conflicts without selling ourselves short by turning to booze for courage, solace, or escape.

The Steps have nothing to do with not drinking? I beg to differ. The Steps have everything to do with learning how to live so that drinking’s no longer necessary or desirable – no matter what life throws our way! And for alcoholics, whose natural response to every life situation is to reach for a drink, the changes they cause in our lives are nothing less than miracles.

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¹ Alcoholics Anonymous (New York, AA World Services, Inc., 1939, 2001) 27. For more information about Carl Jung’s views regarding alcoholism and spirituality, see his correspondence with Bill W., posted at Silkworth.net.

² Ibid, 30 – per the Big Book, “real alcoholics” are defined simply as men and women who have lost the ability to control their drinking, distinct from “heavy drinkers” who are easily able to stop or moderate their drinking if it causes problems for them.

For other perspectives about the role of the Steps in recovery, see soberrecovery.com’s “Being in a 12 Step Program and not working the 12 Steps??” and StableRecovery.com’s “Have You Worked the Steps?”

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Procrastination – Sloth in Five Syllables

Hardly any American needs to be reminded that today is a very special day: Tax Day, the deadline for filing our personal income tax returns.

It’s hardly a day to celebrate, at least for the 49% of us who actually pay federal income taxes . . . most of whom probably regard it more like a national day of mourning!¹

Nevertheless, Tax Day this year is rather special for me. Why? Because for the first time in recent memory I finished our returns early instead of waiting ’til the last minute. How early? About five days.

What’s more – also for the first time in ages – is that we ended up getting some of the money government took from us back! Not much, mind you, but in these tough times every little bit of our own money that we get to keep makes a big difference.

If I had known we would get some of our money returned to us instead of having to pay even more, I might have completed our taxes months ago. But then I would have missed suffering the oppressive sense of impending doom I’ve lived with the past few months. And instead of worrying about coming up with another couple of thousand bucks for the government, I would have enjoyed the peace of mind of knowing we’d already paid in full.

Of course, doing taxes is hardly the only thing I procrastinate about. I always seem able to fine excuses for putting off most things I don’t want to do. Laundry, for instance. Mowing the lawn. Christmas shopping. Smog-testing and annual car registration – thanks to which we’ve paid about $300 to the DMV in late payment penalties in the past couple of years. That makes it hard to con myself into believing that procrastination doesn’t really matter!

The 12 & 12 calls procrastination “sloth in five syllables.”² Somehow that makes it sound much worse to my ears. Sloth is just plain laziness, right? So how can it be laziness that keeps me from getting my taxes in early? Usually I put a lot of work – along with considerable emotional investment – into putting them off!

Fear certainly has something do with it: Fear of discovering something unpleasant, like government wanting even more than I already dread having to pay!

Resentment has a lot to do with it, too: Everything but user taxes is theft, a form of slavery where government colludes with special interests to impoverish the middle class and subvert our nation’s welfare! Thinking like that gets me too angry to focus on the nuts and bolts of filling out tax forms, which makes a great excuse for putting the whole thing off as long as I possibly can!

But if I’m completely honest with myself, my procrastination is due more to laziness than anything else. Until the heat of the tax deadline starts burning my behind, I’d much rather do nothing at all than spend several hours filling out complicated tax forms. Not only do I not want to do it, I don’t even want to think about doing it.

So how does this all of this procrastination benefit me? What does it really get me, when all is said and done?

Nothing, really. In exchange for enjoying a few moments of lazy (and guilty) pleasure, I get to beat myself up day after day for procrastinating. I get to simmer over my resentments about the tax system at least once a week. And I get to dread the unknown for months on end!

No doubt it’s a lousy trade. If someone else forced me to go through it, I’d be more than a little angry. What’s more, there’s a kicker:

When I finally finished our taxes, I found that doing them wasn’t nearly as difficult and time-consuming as I feared (thanks, Turbo Tax!) – and it was far less stressful than what I had put myself through by putting them off. Furthermore, after finishing I had five fabulous days to relax before Tax Day instead of punishing myself with even more procrastination.  I felt as if a great weight had been lifted off my shoulders – and it had!

This isn’t the first time I’ve been offered that lesson. I usually get a chance to review it at least once a year. Will this be the year I finally learn it? At least I got the taxes done a few days early this time, instead of putting them off ’til the very last minute. And there’s no doubt that’s progress – even if the rate is so slow that I’ll never get close to perfection!

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¹ See “Misconceptions and Realities about Who Really Pays Taxes”

² Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions (New York: AA World Services, Inc., 1981) 67.

To learn more about the psychological effects of procrastination and strategies for dealing with it, see Hara Estroff Marano’s “Ending Procrastination” on PyschologyToday.com.

Photo courtesy Darren Shaw at Whitespark.ca

 

 

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