Recently, at several of the meetings I regularly attend, I've noticed a lot of people criticizing how others are conducting themselves in meetings. Some times, these criticisms are being made in the context of a group inventory. Other times, it's at the meeting before or after the meeting. A few times in not so quiet whispers during the meeting.
I've listened as well as I can to all these criticisms and it seems that underneath most of these comments is the deep desire to help others get and/or stay sober. Or a fear that someone will leave the room and get drunk.
It's serious business I agree. But I'm wondering much if sometimes we don't overdo the effort to help another person "get it". It seems to me, that it's helpful to see the disease of alcoholism itself as our greatest friend in the noble effort of helping alcoholics recover from this disease and we should, with all due respect, let the disease itself do the bulk of the heavy lifting in terms of getting someone who suffers from this disease into the recovery process. I suppose this is something I picked up in Alanon.
I remember back to when my son was getting sober and sitting back quite amazed at his courage and persistence in trying to get clean at such a young age (14-15 years old). Of course, it was mostly amazing to me because he was owning up to a problem that I as a 48 year old "man" was absolutely incapable of doing in terms of my own fairly secret battle with alcohol.
I remember that I initially took some comfort in that he actually needed to stop drinking and using: he was, after all, a minor and what he was doing was illegal. Not only that, he was doing it so badly! Not only was he unable to hide his diseased behavior from others, "like I could!" he was unable to lie about stuff that came so easily to me. I mean he could lie, he just couldn't do it as well as me. I was a little embarrassed that he was doing the lying thing so poorly. Was he really not my son?
Anyway, looking back now, I see that his recovery was motivated from within him and had little to do with all the things my wife and I did to try and support him in his efforts. Oh, we did try to help him! And I don't regret any of our efforts to help him---but ultimately, it seemed that what really worked with him was the pain and utter dispair that he felt in his life. The consequences. What worked also was the hope that he started to receive from others afflicted with the same disease of addiction. Pain and hope. That saved him.
And it saved me because about five months after things "clicked" for him, I reached my own moment of utter darkness and dispair.... And it dawned on my that things weren't quite as hopeless as I imagined: there was a solution. I could do what my son did.... Admit what was going on to others who suffered from the same affliction. Reach out for help. Stop trying to stop drinking and start trying to stay sober. Once that light went on for me, the rest of the process has actually been quite easy and simple. Sorta.
Someone once told me that she got sober at the corner of Grace and Willingness. I loved that line. She'd stolen it from her sponsor. But while I loved it, it wasn't where I got sober. I got sober about a half block down from there, at the corner of Grace and Hopelessness. From there, I saw hope and realized that while I couldn't stop drinking, I could stay sober. For one day. Today. I'm sober today I think because I've not forgotten that truth.
I personally don't think there are magical words that can be said in or outside of AA meetings that will get someone sober. That isn't to say that we take what we do and say within or without meetings "lightly" or "cavalierly" --- this is a deadly disease and a serious business.
But it's been helpful to me to take some comfort that there seems to be a basic desire within most folks to be happy and to have a meaningful life. Pain is one of our most effective teachers. Ultimately, what was most effective for me in terms of getting sober was seeing that sobriety (what I then simply thought of only as "not drinking") was possible. The impossible was possible.
That's not what I consider "magic." Nope. It's a miracle. Magic is when something that is actually impossible appears to happen. Miracle is when something that appears impossible actually happens. Huge difference. And by the way, I made those definitions up myself so use 'em if you like, but don't blame Webster if you don't.
Take care!
Mike L.
Found the blog login details again :)
8 years ago