MikeL's Recovery Blog

Checking Back in...

2011-11-16T02:16:00.001-08:00

Do you ever get so disconnected from something or someone that it's hard to get reconnected? I feel that's what happened with me and blogging. Life got so full that something had to give and blogging was it. Now I know I need to get back in touch with this important part of my recovery. And it's hard getting started again.

Turns out the key ingredient to a solution is pain. I'm away from home for a three day business conference in Orlando, Florida. I am in a fancy resort for three days, don't know anyone, very uncomfortable, lonely.

Heard the other day that alcoholics treat loneliness with isolation. It struck me true then. And even more now.

Thus, this blog.

So what have I been doing to stay sober?

Going to lots of meetings (1-2 per day)
Listening (95%) and talking (5%) in meetings
Chairing (telling my experience/strength/hope) in meetings (avg 2/month)
Getting together regularly with sponsees (10 active sponsees, meet for an hour once every two weeks or a month depending on their needs and my availability)
Reading spiritual books (Pema Chodrin's my recent favorite)
Meditation (mostly reciting things memorized over last ten years while I commute to/from work each day); listing to CDs by Jack Kornfield (Insight Meditation) and Pema Chodrin (The Fearless Heart))
Started a Recovery Twitter account: @MikeLRecovery (short stories have never been my strong suit -- but I thought I'd give this a shot just to try something different -- committing to tweet 4-5 times a week)

My family is growing: wife and I are growing older (celebrated 30th wedding anniversary this year); my granddaughter turns a year old soon and we are expecting two more grandchildren shortly: my son (still clean/sober after 10 1/2 years even though he's on some sort of meeting hiatus) and his girlfriend are expecting a girl in December and my youngest daughter and her husband are expecting a boy in April. My children are all living their own lives, yet have remained connected with us and each other. I'm truly blessed. I think that this area of my life is what has been getting more of my energy in the last six months and that's a good thing. I have a tendency to overdo things (to put it mildly!) and I have to constantly be on guard that my recovery work does not overshadow my family life.

Balance: defined as that moment in time that I pass by when swinging back and forth between one extreme and the other!

OK, that's enough from me. It's close to six a.m. and I need a quick nap before going out into that scary world!

Take care!

Mike L.

Our Part

2011-07-11T13:42:00.000-07:00

Last night I got to get away to a meeting, my first once since beginning my vacation almost a week ago. It was a small group in a small Oregon coast town. They each seemed to know each other as the back of their own hands and welcomed me as a visitor without any hesitation. Very informal format which came from the fact that they all knew each other so well. When no one stepped up with a topic, they grabbed one of the daily meditation/reading books and made that the topic: I heard the reading to talk about relationships and the sickening role resentments can play in relationships if we let them. Others heard anything from the 4th, 5th and 6th steps, or an opportunity to share their story of recovery with a fresh face (me) in the meeting.

I shared with them my own most recent experience with deep hurt morphing into resentment and how AA had taught me the importance of focusing on "our part" if we are to find any sense of peace and serenity in our recovery. This experience came during my youngest daughter's wedding reception about a month ago now.

Rachel had asked me about a week before the wedding to give a talk at the reception. This meant a lot to me and for the entire week between then and the wedding, I spent numerous hours crafting the perfect talk for my daughter and her soon to be husband. I never wrote a thing down on paper. I just started drafting my talk out loud in the car as I drove to a from work that week. The centerpiece of the talk was a quote that I had memorized years ago (even before I was sober) from a book called "The Magical Child" by Jonathan Chilton Pierce. I began reading that book shortly after our first child was born and something at the beginning of the second chapter gave me a great sense of peace and comfort at the overwhelming panic I began to experience at the thought of what this newborn child was going to need from me and how little prepared I felt to provide what she so needed from me. The quote was:

Matrix is Latin for the word womb. From that word, we get the words matter, material, mater, mother and so on. These all refer to the basic stuff, the physical substance from which all life derives.

The womb offers three gifts to the newly forming life: a sense of possibility, a sense of energy with which to explore those possibilities and a safe place from which those explorations can take place.

Whenever these three needs are met, we have a matrix. And the growth of intelligence takes place by utilizing the energy given to explore the possibilities given while standing in the safe place given by the matrix.

By the time the day of the wedding arrived, my talk was ready for primetime. It was perfect. I had every word right, the tones and inflections just right. At the end of each practice recitation, I cried. And I knew that my words would strike my daughter the same way. I was ready.

Just before it came time for me to give my talk, my son (who was Rachel's Maid of Honor) and my oldest daughter Katie (who served as Rachel's Matron of Honor) gave their talk to their sister and her new husband. It was wonderful. My son came "this" close to being inappropriate about three or four times, but always stayed this side of the line he's spent years crossing. During their talk, my wife leaned over to me and asked me to walk down to them and take the microphone from them and ask them to "hurry it up". I looked at her aghast and she said, "No, if you do it, it will be funny! If I do it, it will look controlling." I responded that "It wouldn't be funny even if I did it--because it WAS controlling!" Shortly after that, their talk came to a funny and heartfelt end and the microphone was turned over to me to say a few short words to Rachel and Daniel.

I walked down and took the microphone and began my talk. I shared that when I was their age, I discovered what was most important to me to accomplish in life and that was to become a father, a parent. That shortly thereafter, I met Nancy and fell in love. We were married and began having children. And I got scared. Then someone gave me a book called The Magical Child by Jonathan Chilton Pierce.

At that point, I realized that someone, my wife, was now standing beside me. Nancy reached out and took the mic and said, "Mike, can you hurry it up? We only have this place until 10 o'clock!" Everyone laughed, I suppose all of them know I don't have a short story in me. I didn't laugh though because it threw me off balance as I was trying to recite the perfect talk to my daughter and I realized there was no way to finish this talk as I had planned it in my head ahead of time. As Nancy walked away, I knew that my perfect talk had been destroyed but that I couldn't do anything but try to move forward without making a complete disaster out of it. So, I went on to quote most of Pierce's magical words, left off the last sentence and also some other parts of the remaining part of my perfect talk. No one but me knew that their was anything left out. All of them, including Rachel, thought it was a beautiful talk -- very much from my heart, very much Mike. Everyone but me.

Me? I was deeply hurt. I was angry that Nancy had attempted to control the situation -- for whatever reason that might have been for her. I blamed her for ruining my perfect talk, my perfect moment, my perfect gift to my daughter. Ruining something that simply could not be recreated or repaired. That moment was over and done with. There was no way to rewind or
"do over". But I knew that I could not share my hurt with my wife -- it would destroy her. She had put so much into creating the perfect wedding for our daughter: collecting 200 dinner plates from garage sales and antique shops over the last year that would make this a unique event for our guests, finding the perfect venue for this wedding, the perfect flowers, the table gifts for our guests (small Heinz catsup bottles with Rachel and Daniel's names and wedding date--Rachel is a catsup addict), etc. If she knew that her funny interruption of my talk, meant only to keep things "light" when I had a tendency to be serious and philosophical and longwinded, had actually hurt my feelings at such a deep level, it would kill her and destroy her memory of this wonderful wedding day.

So I kept my hurt inside and tried to rationalize it away. I thought of ways that I could get around this unfortunate situation without talking it out with my wife: i.e., I could formalize my talk "in full" onto a plaque and give it to them on their 30 day anniversary, I could "let it go" and move on, etc. But the hurt remained and within two days it had morphed into a full blown resentment. Resentment is a decision to hold on to a feeling beyond its normal lifetime. And that's what I did: I held on and more, I nursed it and fed it. And it grew. By Monday, all it took was some little annoying comment made by my wife before I snapped at her with far more feeling than her comment deserved. And she snapped back with deeply held hurts/resentments of her own. Because we were in the company of other family members, we covered over our anger "until later".

When "later" arrived that evening after all family and friends had left to return home, Nancy look over at me and asked, "Well, are you going to apologize for what happened today?" I looked at her and kept all my vicious responses inside my head where they belonged and said nothing. Silence is my favorite weapon in battles like this--although at the time, I really don't realize I'm using this as a weapon -- I am just trying not to hurt someone I love and the only way I know how to do this when I'm feeling such strong and powerful emotions is to be silent. Of course, that silence is the one thing that hurts Nancy the most.

So, she then asked, "Is this apology going to be something that comes in a day or so, or after a week?" I keep my silence as long as I could and ended it by saying the kindest thing I could, "I'm leaning more toward a week...." Amazingly, she didn't reply with anything other than her own silence.

The next day, I got up early and went to an early meeting before heading to work. It was a step meeting and they were reading Step 4 from the 12x12. For some reason, this morning, the whole chapter spoke directly to me and what I had been going through in the last four days and unfortunately, it was all about looking for my part in this whole ordeal. I didn't want to hear anything but "her part" but I realized that focusing on her part was what I had been doing for all of the last four days and all that had gotten me was more and more suffering and more and more pain. As I surrendered to the idea that I could get relief from this suffering and pain only by taking a serious and careful look at "my part" did things start to change for me. I briefly shared my discovery of my part with the group: my part was all the expectations I had placed in coming up with the perfect talk, giving that perfect talk at this one point in time and history "no matter what", my thinking I had some control over the outcome of all my preparations and planning and efforts, and, most of all, my decision after my wife's interruption not to go ahead by reciting exactly what I had planned without any edits or rushing things! True, she interrupted my perfect talk, but I'm the one who changed the talk from that point forward. Not her. Me. God, I hate it when I'm wrong!

I drove to work as usual, but I spent the time again reviewing my part in all of this and seeing that I needed to make an amends to her rather than holding on to the falsehood that she owed me a huge amends... That night, as I was leaving work (trying to avoid the inevitable I suppose...) I texted her and told her that "I was going to be home around 7, with humble pie and an apology." She replied quickly that "Blackberry would be sufficient...". I knew it was going to be alright then. That night, I started off my apology by telling her that I needed her to understand that what I was going to tell her that night had NOTHING to do with her or anything that she had done. I had discovered earlier that day what had been bothering me for the last five days was something that I had done, even though I had been mistakenly thinking it was something she had done to hurt me the day of Rachel's wedding. I told her that earlier that day, it dawned on me that it wasn't anything she had done that had really hurt me, but rather, what I had done myself that was the true cause of my hurt. That said, I told her the story of what I saw happening the night of my "perfect talk" and how hurt I was by what happened that night after her interruption.

As expected, my sharing this information with her hurt her deeply and profoundly. She stood up crying, saying that I had ruined the memory of this wedding for her... All feelings that she had a perfect right to have and to feel and to share with me, but none of which really had anything to do with me (thank God I'd learned something in these years of recovery!). After a few minutes of some painful sharing, all things between us came back together and we were reconnected again in no more than 10 minutes. My irrational fear of her feelings and reactions has always been a self-constructed roadblock to me being myself and expressing my feelings to this woman who I love and adore more than anyone on the planet. You'd think after more than 30 years of marriage I would get over this.... But then, if you were thinking that, I suspect that you don't have 30 years of marriage!

By the time the next night came around, she was able to share with me that earlier at work, one of the nuns at her school walked up to her and said that her favorite part of the whole wedding was when Nancy interrupted Mike's talk (this nun was my former Department Chair when I taught religion at this same school where my wife is now principal...) --- sure, Mike's talk was great and touching and "pure Mike!" it was Nancy's lighthearted interruption that brought a lightness to the whole event that made this one of the perfect Mike/Nancy gatherings. And we laughed. And then I began rubbing her feet --- a self-imposed penance that I've lived now for nine and a half years of recovery and expect to be doing for the remainder of that recovery and for the remainder of this life/marriage.

The freedom gained by focusing on my part has been great to be sure.

Take care!

Mike L.

Time Away

2011-07-09T13:20:00.000-07:00

My wife and I have taken two weeks off and are spending time away from everything here at a house on the Oregon coast. Joining us is a couple who are long time friends. I'm barely able to access the internet, but it's sufficient to access my neglected recovery blog. My dependence on technology has shown itself in various withdrawal pains and cravings. My other unhealthy addictions to other things have also come to the fore: addicion to work, to helping others, to busyness, to meetings, to noise, to projects, etc.

We've been away now for almost five days now and it's been great. We stay up late playing games and telling stories about things that have happened over the last year since we saw each other: birth of our first granddaughter, engagement and marriage of our youngest daughter, and the announcement by my son and his girlfriend that they are expecting a child this coming December.... We had a guest for dinner last night, a friend of Randy's who has been his fishing buddy for years. He happens to be 12 or 13 years sober and very active in AA. We didn't get a chance to talk much or even share our common bond out loud. But it was nice to have another AA close at hand and know that we had a bond that didn't need to be talked about. Lots of laughter and storytelling.

My favorite activity of all though has been catching up on reading. Downloaded the 1st edition of Alcoholics Anonymous and have enjoyed reading all the stories included in that and subsequent editions of the Big Book.

Also reading "The Fifth Agreement" by Don Miguel Ruiz and his son Jose. A great followup to The Four Agreements. 1. Be impeccable with your word. 2. Don't take anything personally. 3. Don't make assumptions. 4. Always do your best. And now, 5. Be skeptical; learn to listen. I totally buy into this Toltec wisdom tradition which basically says that since a very early point in our growing up, we let go of our innate sense that we were perfect just the way we were and saw things without judgment or wishes that thing were different than they were....and began to accept the teachings of others that we could be bad, that we should be good, that we needed to conform in order to be accepted and acceptable, that we could't/shouldn't trust our perceptions or thoughts or feelings.... And in so doing, began adopting certain "agreements" as to how reality should be interpreted and analyzed. These agreements became part of our self and they have become the basis of our self-evaluation and of our evaluation of all of reality. The problem is that these agreements are all false and our adoption of them is the bottom-line cause of all our suffering. Ruiz proposes five new agreements that, as we adopt them and commit ourselves to living as best we can, allow us to regain that childlike view of ourselves and our world as being perfect just the way we are.

These four agreements have been helpful to me over the last couple of years. I often use them whenever I'm feeling a bit "off the beam" -- and usually I'm able to see where my failure to adhere to one of more of these four commitments has led me to the suffering I'm experiencing. Sometimes my use of words to hurt others, or more frequently myself!, is this underlying cause of my suffering. Other times, it's the decision to take someone else's words or actions as though they had something to do with me. Other times, the suffering is the result of assumptions I've made about something or someone that simply have no bearing in reality. Or the expectation that I should always be perfect in my actions or thoughts. Whatever: suffering is always self-imposed and self-generated. I then chuckle to myself about this and reacquaint myself with each of the agreements and move forward a little lighter than I was before.

This new 5th agreement seems to hold much potential in that it stresses the importance of stepping back from my instant reflex reactions to reality "as Mike sees it"; the importance of Doubt when looking at Reality as I tend to interpret it using untrue assessment rules learned by me over the last 58 years; and the importance of just seeing things as they are in the light of awareness.

These five agreements are a nice addition to my kit of spiritual tools in recovery.

OK, back to my time away.

Take care!

Mike L.

Our Calling

2011-05-22T20:35:00.000-07:00

For th last two months I've been running on all cylinders in all areas of my life. Work has been consuming me with multiple major projects, any one of which could have occupied me and my staff for a full year. My family is expanding and changing on what seems to be a daily basis: youngest daughter getting married next month, first grandchild reaching her six month milestone with an infectious smile, a second grandchild (my son's) due before end of year. My recovery program has continued to escalate, more sponsees than I feel comfortable with, but for now, haven't been willing to say no when someone asks (primarily because I could always give up a meeting or two if needed since I still go to 10 or more meetings a week).

But in the last two months or so, I was presented with some challenges with one of my sponsees that kept me "just before" being overwhelmed at almost a constant state of affairs. But, as suggested by one of my mentors in AA, I needed to simply take things one whelm at a time --- otherwise, I'd get overwhelmed! The challenge came with the guy who first asked me to be his sponsor over five and a half years ago: late last year he was diagnosed with prostate cancer and he successfully walked through all the fears that came with that diagnosis and had the surgery to remove his prostate early this year. During his two month recovery at home, it seemed like his anxiety levels began to gradually increase -- I thought due to having too much time on his hands and not being used to that. I suggested going to more meetings than he was used to and he did. Nevertheless, he had something sort of blindside him in February and as a result of that, his mental health began to degrade on a daily basis and within a few weeks I had to have him committed to a psyche hospital because he was becoming a danger to himself. After a harrowing several weeks in and out of these mental health hospitals, he's now back at home and beginning an intensive outpatient program to get his feet back on the ground. Miraculously, through all of this, he's stayed sober. Taking a drink didn't cross his mind: taking his life did.

Through all of that, I was doing everything I could to help him walk through this challenge. I broke down and met with my sponsor about half way through the process and asked him for feedback in terms of setting boundaries, but also with dealing with the certainty that I needed to do everything within my power to help my friend. That meeting was tremendously helpful. He listened, asked a few insightful questions (he's a lawyer, so this is one of his great strengths!) and then shared a story with me that he'd never shared with anyone else: he'd walked through something very similar to what I was dealing with now and he shared with me how he approached his challenge. He shared the story not to suggest that I needed to do what he did, but rather, just because his story was all he could offer me. I could take what seemed to work for me and leave the rest... I walked away with a greater sense of peace about what I was doing and that it was right for me.

Within a day or so of that meeting with my sponsor, I was reading a book by David Richo called "The Five Things We Cannot Change" and at the beginning of the section I was reading, Richo quoted something from George Bernard Shaw called "The Calling":

This is the true joy in living: being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one; being thoroughly worn out before you are thrown on the scrap heap; being a force of nature instead of a feverish, selfish, little clod of ailments and grievances, complaining that the world is not devoting itself to making you happy!

This quote hit me like a ton of bricks! I reminded me of the chapter on the 12th Step in the 12x12 wherein it states in very first paragraph that "the theme of the twelfth step is the joy of living" and then restates slightly differently amd even more powerfully in the very last paragraph of that same chapter, "the theme of the twelfth step is the joy of good living." Shaw was saying essentially the same thing: the joy of living comes by way of "being used for a purpose" (for me, helping other suffering alcoholics) and knowing that that purpose is a "mighty one"; that this service is done without much regard for prudence or balance, but rather, by throwing ones self into service without regard to personal hardship or reward. That in doing this, we obtain true joy.

I committed this quote to memory over the next day or so and have repeated it to myself several times a day during my commute to/from work. It always fills me with renewed strength and commitment to doing what I've been called to do: help other suffering alcoholics. My recovery has taken on a renewed vitality and I don't care to question its source.

As things seem to be settling down a little now, I'm glad to get back to some blogging which is one of the things I've had to cut back on over the last couple of months. Just not enough hours in the day.

Take care!

Mike L.

The Two Stages of My Alcoholism (there is no 3rd Stage)

2011-03-04T20:21:00.000-08:00

Over the last couple of weeks, I've been realizing that there really are only two stages in my alcoholism: the first stage was when I could stop and the second stage is when I couldn't stop. For me, there was and is no third stage.

My first stage started from the time when I took my first drink, I was probably 17 years old. When I took that drink, strangely enough, I took it with the clear intent that if I was going to do this, I was going to do it without becoming an alcoholic like my dad. When I was 21, my dad's drinking took off downhill and he gradually descended into a lonely and isolated existence and eventually death. My way of proving to my self that I was not an alcoholic like him was to demonstrate the ability to stop drinking. And whenever my drinking looked like it was coming close to alcoholic, I would stop. The only problem to this strategy was that I would always reach a point in time when I'd realize that I had "really" stopped and therefore, I was not an alcoholic. And inevitably, whenever I proved to myself that I wasn't an alcoholic, I would drink! Isn't that the perfect test for alcoholism?

That first stage lasted almost 30 years. It ultimately ended when my son entered an adolescent chemical dependency program when he was 15. In order for him to get into that program, my wife and I had to agree to a couple of conditions, the most crisis-invoking for me was the one that "strongly suggested" that I stop all alcohol and drug use while my son was in that 3-6 month outpatient program. That's the moment I moved into the second stage of my alcoholism, the "I can't stop" stage. I knew as soon as the counselor (a recovering heroin addict now psychologist...) asked me to stop that there was no way in hell that I was going to be able to stop. And I knew equally well that I could not tell them (my wife and son were also in the room) that I could not stop. So I lied and convinced them that I would certainly stop if it would help my son learn how to "live life without chemical assistance" as they referred to their plan for him and now his mother and me.

I hid my drinking successfully from everyone but me and the strangers who saw me drinking for another 10 months. At the end of 5 months, my son experienced some sort of change and things all clicked for him. He's been clean now for almost 10 years. I watched him from a safe distance for another 5 months and then one night I went to pick him up after his Friday night Marijuana Anonymous meeting (he went to every 12 step program there was before ultimately finding a home in NA...) and he smelled liquor on my breath. He asked, without anger, if I had been drinking and I lied. I wanted to tell him the truth -- not only had I been drinking while he was in that meeting, I had done the same thing for almost 10 months while he was going to 10 to 14 meetings a week. I drank almost everytime after dropping him off at a meeting. But what kept me from telling him the truth was that if he knew I was drinking, he would begin expecting me to stop.

And I simply could not stop!

He accepted my assertion and left me to my misery. The next morning, I woke up at 6am with the clarity of thought: I can't stop drinking! I'd had that same thought every morning for 10 months and for many mornings before that.... But that morning, a second thought came to me: not being able to stop is called alcoholism and alcoholism is a disease. My body is different.

All of a sudden everything I had been doing in relation to my drinking made perfect sense! I couldn't stop because my body was different! Wow! What followed then was another thought and that was, I can do something about this. I can do what Pat has been doing. I can try to stay sober for one day.

You know, when I hear people talk about the day or moment that they were finally able to stop drinking, I cringe inside. You see, I have decided not to describe what happened that morning of October 20, 2001 as the morning I stopped drinking. Not even for one day. What happened that morning is that I "stopped stopping" and starting putting effort into staying sober a day at a time.

So now whenever I hear someone come back into the program, full of shame and guilt for having drank "again", I suspect that much of their guilt and shame is based on the false idea that they are the only one in the room "who can't stop drinking." What I try to do, as gently and as kindly as I can, is let them know that they are not alone in the room. You see, I can't stop drinking either! And the solution I found over nine years ago was that instead of trying to stop, I just redirected my attention toward the goal of staying sober today.

For me, there is no third stage of alcoholism. This is a physical, permanent and progressive disease. That doesn't go away, doesn't get cured. What happened for me, as the result of some moment of grace and the impact of witnessing my own son's recovery from this same hopeless state of mind and body, is that I woke up and accepted who and what I was: an alcoholic, pure and simple. Once I passed into the second stage of this disease, the only possible outcomes were ever increasing suffering and isolation, death or recovery.

Recovery has involved much work, but within a fairly short period of time, the process seems to have taken on a life of its own. I don't do things with the intent to stay sober or to avoid the first drink. I do the things because they fill my life with meaning, peace, joy, purpose and love. My life is full, if not overflowing. I am connected to a large web of other recovering alcoholics and much of my day is spent doing something to help another alcoholic in a myriad of ways.

Take care!

Mike L.

Away from My Peeps

2011-01-17T12:18:00.000-08:00

I am away for a long weekend in Phoenix with my wife and youngest daughter. This is my fourth day in a row without a meeting and we won't get back home until late tonight. It's rare that I go four days without a meeting and I'm missing my peeps greatly. What I've been doing to stay sober these last few days is to read books somehow related to my recovery. Yesterday, my brother-in-law gave me a book that he thought I might like: it's by Mel B. and is called Three Recovery Classics. The idea behind the book was to provide people in recovery with access to three key pieces of literature that were a big part of Bill Wilson and Dr. Bob Smith's life in recovery. The three works are: As a Man Thinketh by James Allen, The Greatest Thing in the World by Henry Drummond and The St. Francis Prayer.

I think that Mike gave it to me because he knows I love reading anything about the history of AA and anything about recovery in general. Not sure where he got the book, but it's autographed by the author. The book has this "I haven't been read" feeling to it, so I'm guessing that Mike gave it to me just to free up a little space on his book shelf. He's not as "in" to AA as I am and that's perfectly fine with me.

As a Man Thinketh is a really good book and fits very well into my own experience: my thinking, right or wrong, accurate or inaccurate, has a lot more to do with my circumstances in life than chance, happenstance, luck or a Santa Claus-like God.

As I mentioned in one of my early blogs, I developed this weird habit, early on in my recovery, of memorizing all sorts of things that I cam across in my recovery reading. In a sense, I was almost "brainwashing" myself by committing to memory all sorts of things that I found beautiful or utterly true for me. By repeating them over and over, they eventually became part of my way of seeing and interpreting things that were happening in my life. Some of them became tools for personal inventory or self-examination. As I read through As a Man Thinketh I realized that I couldn't but agree with almost everything he said. The same was true for Drummond's book on Love (which "is" The Greatest Thing in the World).

Whatever. Reading this book helped me reconnect with another alcoholic (Mel B.) and that sets things back on path for me. Like Bill W. and Dr. Bob, I've found much value in reading non-AA literature and using it to give greater depth and width to my own recovery. What I most looked forward to in reading these early classics was not so much the truth that they might contain, but rather, I looked forward to finding more about the founders of AA through sharing something that they read and incorporated into their lives and their writings. Helps me put more "context" into their writings.

In addition to this book, I also was able to talk to a sponsee yesterday and that was great. He's having a hard time not only with staying sober but also with depression and isolation. The depression and isolation seem to feed on each other and he tends to get caught in a very negative cycle with these-----but at least this time he's refrained from drinking during this bout with darkness and loneliness.

There's a part of me that wants to suggest refocusing his attention to more positive things (as suggested by James Allen) or on helping/loving others as a means to get out of himself (as suggested by Drummond) --- but making such suggestions has rarely been my way (as suggested by Dr. Earle!). I may pass on this book, Three Recovery Classics, though --- it might suggest some alternative ways out of the painful place he tends to go when he runs out of solutions.

I am very much looking forward to returning to my home and work and regular routines. I like routine. Except when I don't.

Take care!

Mike L.

The Toolkit was Seemingly Empty...

2010-12-08T22:16:00.000-08:00

Some time ago, I wrote a blog about one of the unique characteristics about the AA "kit of spiritual tools" or what is oftentimes referred to as the AA toolkit: what's unique about this toolkit is that most recovering alcoholics will go through their sobriety adding new and different tools to that kit and over time, they find that they freqently have to dig through the toolkit to find just the right tool for the challenge or problem facing them any one particular day. But, at least according to the oldtimer I was listening to awhile ago, there will always come a day in every recovering alcoholic's life when he or she reaches into their toolkit only to discover that the kit is completely empty and all that seems to remain is the idea or thought of "just one drink." Luckily for us, the AA toolkit is designed for such a day because in the bottom of every toolkit is a note. And the note says, "You need more tools!"

Well, last week I was driving to work and I was doing my typical routine of reciting some stuff that I'd memorized as a part of my 11th step work (it was David Richo's 156 Fear Affirmations). I'd only recited a few of them when I began thinking about a guy that I had been trying to help out for the last couple of weeks. He'd been in recovery for several months and had a few relapses over the last year or so. After the last relapse, he'd decided to make a change in sponsors and had asked me to be his new sponsor. I was honored and began meeting with him once every week or so, had created a private recovery blog for him and had him posting a daily plan each night for maintaining his sobriety on the coming day. After a few weeks, he simply disappeared: he stopped coming to meetings, didn't answer my calls or emails, stopped blogging. Others in the program also reported that he'd stopped communicating with him and we all feared that he'd either relapsed or was in a dangerous period of isolation.

The non-responsiveness of this guy had gone on more than a week or so and I was growing more and more concerned. Then, I'd hear from someone that he'd returned their call and that he was alive. Drinking, but alive. I tried various attempts at communicating with him and tried to balance that with some level of detachment. I almost resorted to going to an Alanon meeting. ;-}

Then this Friday on my way to work, I thought I'd try calling him another time. I did and the call went straight to voicemail. I tried to say something kind, hopeful, slightly funny....and then wished him well. Asking him to let me know if there was anything I could do to help him get sober again. Anything.

When I got off the phone, I noticed something surprising to me: I felt better. Prior to the call, I'd had a lingering sense of sadness, helpless, powerlessness in terms of my own abilility or inability to help this guy at this point in his recovery. I'd often said that I have the philosphy as a sponsor to let the disease do all the hard work and then when the alcoholic is desperate enough to "stop stopping" and start trying to get or stay sober, then I reach out my hand to help in whatever way I can.

Hmmm, the phone call made me feel better! Know that I've never been one who used the "tool" of calling other recoverying alcoholics as a part of my daily routine: I don't like the phone, I don't like talking to people who I can't see --- actually, I'm not sure I like talking to people even when I can see them! But this day, I found out that calling another struggling alcoholic and trying to offer some sort of help in that manner, made me feel better! I'd found a new tool at the most surprising time in my sobriety.

So, I did what I oftentimes do when I find something that works: I decided to try it again! I thought of another guy I had been thinking about recently: he was what I refer to as an "inactive sponsee" of mine: these are guys who I had actively sponsored for some time, but for some reason or another had disconnected from me and yet still considered me to be their sponsor. I sometimes joke that these guys had stolen my name and used it to get annoying folks off their backs in terms of "do you have a sponsor?" sorts of questions. Sure, they would say, I've got a sponsor -- a great sponsor! His name is Mike. All in the hopes that that answer would make these AA pests leave them alone.

Anyway, I began thinking of this one particular inactive sponsee: he'd met with me once about six months ago (after about a six month period of disappearing off of the horizon...) and asked me to continue being his sponsor. We had a nice talk over coffee and then he disappeared again. I tried a couple of times to call him, calls all went to unanswered voicemail hell. A few weeks ago, someone had told me that they'd seen this guy the day before: that he was homeless (his wife had kicked him out of the house some weeks ago...) and drunk. So, last Friday, I thought I'd give this "calling another suffering alcoholic" tool another test: I called him and it went immediately to voicemail. I wasn't really surprised, wasn't even sure he still had cell phone service, but I left of message anyway saying that I was thinking of him, that I hoped that he was sober and well, and that if there was anything I could do to help him in his recovery, please give me a call. After leaving the message, I noticed the same consequence as the first call: I felt even better!

So, I tried it again: this time I called a guy that I knew from one of the early morning meetings that I've gone to for almost eight years: he had been a regular at that meeting, really dove into the program, got a sponsor, worked the steps, made coffee, became a secretary, did various types of service. A really nice guy and I loved how he simply added color and life and vitality to the meeting as his sobriety matured. I'd not seen him around for awhile and a few weeks after Halloween this year, I'd heard from a mutual friend that this guy had had a relapse, short in duration but devastating in effect. I'd called him a few weeks ago and he was encouraged by that call. So this last Friday, I made a call to him as my 3rd test of this newfangled tool.

Amazingly, he answered my call! My first thought was, "Oh my God, now what do I do!" I'd fully expected to get another voicemail and now he goes and screws it up by answering my call! Anyway, after my initial shock, we had a great conversation lasting almost 30 minutes. During that call, I even got a call back from the homeless sponsee -- I let that call go to voicemail and felt some Alanon pride coming back for doing that -- and finished up my call with the third guy. We agreed to meet up for a noon meeting in San Francisco the coming week and then maybe lunch or coffee afterward. Got off the phone, noticed that I felt even better after this third test and then checked my voicemail from #2.

The voicemail was amazing: he was sober and temporarily living in a homeless shelter run by some Christian missionary sect. Not all that happy about their rules and routines, but it was a safe place to live until he could get into a nearby VA recovery program. We had a nice talk and agreed that I'd try to stop by to see him before he moved on to the VA recovery program...it was actually in a town on my way to/from work.

I made one more call to a 4th guy before getting to work. It was a short and sweet checkin call with a former sponsee who'd moved to the East coast over a year prior: he'd had a relapse after his move East, had almost died just a few months ago: but was now several months sober and actively rebuilding his life and working a reinvigorated recovery program.

The wonderful ending of this day came when I was leaving a Friday night meeting that same day: I'd had a call during the meeting that went to voicemail. It was from my missing sponsee who for whatever reason: had heard something in my voicemail earlier that morning that helped him call me back, just to let me know that he appreciated all my calls and attempts to reach out to him. But that he was simply unable to stop drinking. He asked me not to give up on him and that he was going to try again to stop -- that hopefully he'd see me soon. I called him right back: and surprisingly, he answered the phone. We had a short but encouraging conversation and I assured him that I'd never give up on him and that I hoped he'd redirect his energies/efforts away from "stopping" toward "getting/staying sober for just one day". He said that he'd try: but I knew the truth of that was not yet sinking in or making sense to him.

My day ended with a sense of wonder and awe. Who'd a thunk that a couple of phone calls could transform my world in such powerful ways! And now, I have the sense again that my toolbox is overflowing again. It was never really empty. It was just full of tools that weren't the right fit for what was ailing me that day. Guess that the tools show up when the right nut appears.

Take care!

Mike L.

Grandpa L!

2010-11-26T13:52:00.000-08:00

Taking Advantage of Richo's "Fear Affirmations"

2010-11-26T03:06:00.000-08:00

I'm sitting here at the hospital while my eldest daughter is having her first child in a nearby room. My wife and son-in-law are there with her. I'm sitting here alone in the waiting room, dealing with various fears as I wait for my first grandchild to be born.

As I drove here, just as Thanksgiving Day was coming to a close, I took advantage of the 1/2 hour drive to to the hospital to recite a series of fear affirmations that I found at the end of David Richo's wonderful book, When Love Meets Fear. I'd memorized all 156 of these affirmations several weeks ago because I knew as soon as I read through them the first time that they were going to become another tool of mine to deal with life's ups and downs, and in particular, fear. Reciting them aloud when I was in the car by myself helped put all sorts of fears in a place where they didn't seem to overwhelm me or take me out of the moment that I'm in right now.

When I got to the hospital, I decided that rather than watch TV or read, I would use my laptop to type out these 156 affirmations related to fear. Again, I found that going through these affirmations again helped me stay centered and calm. Certain affirmations seemed to strike me as right on target this morning.

While this might violate some copyright of David Richo's I'll beg forgiveness from him should that be necessary: Here are my recollections of Richo's fear affirmations (I've bracketed [] any modifications or additions to his words -- I oftentimes modify the words of something I've memorized just to make it a little more "mine" or more personal):

1. I trust my true fears to give me signals of danger.

2. I admit that I also have false fears and worries.

3. I feel compassion toward myself for all the years I’ve been afraid.

4. I forgive those who hypnotized me into unreal fears.

5. I suggest now to myself, over and over, that I am freeing myself from fear.

6. I have fearlessness to match my fear.

7. I trust my powers and resourcefulness as a man.

8. I trust my abundant creativity.

9. I trust the strength that opens and blooms in me when I face a threat.

10. I believe in myself as a man who handles what comes his way…today.

11. I know how to rise to a challenge.

12. I am more and more aware of how I hold fear in my body.

13. I stop storing fear in my body.

14. Now I relax those holding places.

15. I open my body to joy and serenity.

16. I release my body from the clench of fear.

17. I relax those parts of me that hold on to fear the most.

18. I let go of the stresses and tensions that come from fear.

19. I let go of fear based thoughts.

20. I let go of basing my decisions on fear.

21. I stop listening to those who want to [export] their fears into me.

22. I let go of finding something to fear in everything.

23. I let go of fear and fearing and believing that everything is fearsome.

24. I let go of the primitive ways I have of catastrophizing: e.g., the fear belief: it will always be this way!

25. I am more and more aware of my instant reflex fear reactions.

26. I accept that I have habituated myself to a certain level of adrenaline.

27. I admit that I oftentimes choose the adrenaline rush that comes with the dramas of fear and desire.

28. I forgo this stressful excitement and choose sane and serene liveliness.

29. I let go of the obsessive thoughts about how the worst may happen.

30. I trust myself always to have an alternative.

31. I see the humor in my fears.

32. I see the humor in my exaggerated responses to unreal dangers.

33. I find a humorous dimension in every fear.

34. I find a humorous response to every fear.

35. I play with the pain of fear.

36. I smile at my scared ego with tough love.

37. I am convinced of my abilities to handle situations and people that scare me.

38. I am more and more aware of how what happens or has happened is being faced, integrated or released.

39. I have self-healing power AND I seek and find support from outside sources.

40. I have an enormous capacity for rebuilding, restoring and transcending.

41. I am more and more sure of my abilities.

42. I am less and less scared by what happens, by what has happened, by what will happen.

43. I trust myself.

44. I trust the uncanny timing that I keep noticing in my life.

45. I love how I awake, or change, or resolve, or complete at just the right moment.

46. Nothing forces me; nothing stops me.

47. I let go of any fear of nature.

48. I let go of my fear of natural disasters.

49. I let go of my fears of sickness, accident, old age and death.

50. I cease being afraid of knowing, having or showing my feelings.

51. I let go of the fear of failure and of success.

52. I let go of the fears behind my guilt and shame.

53. I let go of the fear of aloneness or of having time on my hands.

54. I let go of the fear of abandonment.

55. I let go of the fear of engulfment.

56. I let go of the fear of closeness.

57. I let go of the fear of commitment.

58. I let go of the fear of being betrayed.

59. I let go of the fear of being cheated or robbed.

60. I let go of the fear of giving, receiving; beginnings, endings; comings, goings; scarcity, abundance; saying no, saying yes.

61. I let go of the fear of any person.

62. I let go of the fear of loving.

63. I let go of the fear of being loved.

64. I let go of the fear of losing: losing money, losing face, losing freedom, losing friends, losing family members, losing respect, losing status, losing my job, losing out!

65. I let go of the fear of having to grieve.

66. I keep letting go; I keep going on.

67. I let go of my paranoia.

68. I give up my phobic rituals.

69. I let go of my performance fears.

70. I let go of my sexual fears.

71. I let go of my fears about my adequacy as a parent or child; worker or manager; partner, [lover] or friend; [sponsor or sponsee].

72. I let go of the need for control.

73. I acknowledge control as a mask for my fear.

74. I let go of the need to be right, to be first, to be perfect.

75. I let go of the belief that I am entitled to be taken care of.

76. I let go of the fears about the 5 conditions of existence:

a. I accept that I may sometimes lose.

b. I accept that things change and end.

c. I accept that pain is part of human growth.

d. I accept that things are not always fair.

e. I accept that people will lie to me, betray me, or not be loyal to me.

77. I am flexible enough to accept life as it is, forgiving enough to accept life as it has been, [open enough to welcome life as it happens].

78. I drop the need for or the belief in a personal exemption from the conditions of my existence.

79. I acknowledge my present predicament as a path.

80. I trust a design in spite of the display.

81. I let go of more than fate can take.

82. I appreciate how everything works out for me.

83. I appreciate the graces that everywhere surround and enrich my life.

84. I find an alternative always exists behind the apparent dead end of fear.

85. I open myself to love, to people, to events.

86. I accept the love that awaits me everywhere.

87. I feel deeply loved by people near and far, living and dead.

88. I feel loved and watched over by my higher power.

89. I believe I have an important destiny, that I am living in accord with it, that I will survive to fulfill it.

90. I let myself feel the full measure of the joy I was meant to feel: the joy of living without fear.

91. I let fear go, I let joy in.

92. I let fear go, I let love in.

93. I let fears go and I expand my sensibilities.

94. I am more and more aware of others fears, more and more sensitive to them, more and more compassionate toward them.

95. I am more and more acceptant of all kinds of people

96. I enlarge my circle of love to include every living being and I show them love.

97. I am more and more courageous in my program of dealing with fear:

a. I let go of the need for control

b. I let the chips fall where they may

c. I admit my fears

d. I feel my fears by letting them flow through me

e. I act as if I were free from fear

f. I see the humor in my fears

g. I expand my circle of love to include myself and everyone

98. I have pluck and wit!

99. I let go of my defenses.

100. I defend myself.

101. I am non-violent.

102. I am intrepid under fire.

103. I am a hero: I feel pain in my life and am transformed by it.

104. I am undaunted by situations and people that threaten me.

105. I let people’s attempts to menace me fall flat.

106. I give up running from a threat.

107. I give up shrinking from a fight.

108. I show grace under pressure.

109. I stop running; I stop hiding.

110. More and more of my fears are becoming healthy excitement.

111. I meet danger face to face.

112. I stand up for a fight.

113. I take the bull by the horns.

114. I walk the gauntlet.

115. I put my head in the lion’s mouth.

116. I stick to my guns and hold my fire.

117. An automatic courage arises in me when I face a threat.

118. I dare to show myself as I am: afraid and courageous.

119. I hereby release the courage that has lain hidden within me.

120. I am thankful for the gift of fortitude.

121. I let go of hesitation and self-doubt.

122. I am hardy in the face of fear.

123. I have grit, stamina and toughness.

124. I take risks and always act with responsibility and grace.

125. I let go of the need to be different.

126. I let go of the fear of others expectations.

127. I cease being intimidated by others anger.

128. I let go of the fear of what might happen if others do not like me.

129. I let go of the fear of false accusation.

130. I let go of the fear of doing it his, her or their way.

131. I acknowledge that behind my excessive sense of obligation is the fear of my own freedom.

132. I let go of the horror about disapproval, ridicule or rejection.

133. I dare to stop auditioning for people’s approval.

134. I dare to give up my act.

135. I give up all my poses, pretences and posturings.

136. I dare to be myself.

137. I acknowledge that behind my fear of self-disclosure is a fear of freedom.

138. I dare to show my hand, to show my inclinations, to show my enthusiasms.

139. I let my every word, feeling and deed reflect me, as I truly am.

140. I love being found out: that is, caught in the act of being my authentic self.

141. I explore the farthest reaches of my identity.

142. I live my life according to my deepest needs and wishes.

143. I let go of the need to correct people’s impressions of me.

144. I stop being afraid of my own power.

145. I am irrepressible.

146. I draw upon the ever renewing sources of lively energy within me.

147. I am great hearted and bold spirited.

148. I dare to give of myself unconditionally, and…

149. I dare to be unconditionally committed to maintaining my own boundaries.

150. I open myself to the grace to know the difference.

151. I fling open the gates of my soul.

152. I set free joy, till now imprisoned by fear.

153. I set free love, till now imprisoned by fear.

154. I honor and evoke my animal powers, my human powers, my divine powers.

155. I let true love cast out all fear.

156. I face fear like the Buddha; I am the Buddha in the face of fear.

Nine Years...

2010-11-01T20:33:00.000-07:00

With the exception of regular blogging, I've been pretty consistent in continuing to do what has helped me not only stay sober for over nine years now (my sobriety birthday is October 20, 2001) but also fashion a way of living that really is beyond my wildest imagination: lots of meetings, working with others, reading and meditation (memorizing/reciting mostly...).

The main reason behind my falling away from the regular blogging is that some life issues have arisen in the last month or two and they have been occupying a significant amount of my time and that time had to come from somewhere: blogging was it. The biggest thing that I've been dealing with is my mother's development of a progressive form of dementia over the last year or so. It's gotten to the point where someone had to step up and help her deal with the various aspects of this disease and to get help with getting it diagnosed and developing a plan of action. In terms of my recovery, I should note that before I got sober, I had not talked to my mother for almost 10 years! But in the process of working through the steps, I was able to eventually reach out to her and rebuild a relationship with her that has become quite strong over the last five or six years. I've been there for her as she's experienced some strokes, a heart attack and five way heart bypass surgery and now with this gradual loss of memory at 81 years old.

What surprises me is that I've really come to enjoy my times with my mother. That has never been true in our relationship: ever. She trusts me, enjoys spending time with me and always thanks me for all my help and assistance. What a blessing made possible by my recovery work!

As I've been going through all this with my mom, I've been consistent with my meetings, kept my commitments to my sponsees, checked in with my sponsors to keep them in the loop, and made time each day for maintaining my spiritual practices. I've even taken up some new things, like calling people I haven't seen in awhile and just checking in or calling people who I know are struggling with the "not drinking part of the program" and just offering to help in any way I can --- or just to talk if they feel like doing that. I've never been much of a phone person: but I decided to try something different and it's been paying off huge dividends.

Tonight I'm able to blog because my wife and youngest daughter are at the hospital waiting for my wife's sister to have her first baby. I'll head over sometime later this evening, but for now, I have time to just check in with this blog. Within the next month or so, I'll be joining my wife and eldest daughter and her husband for another trip to the hospital: that time to be there for the birth of our first grandchild. I don't like projecting out that far, but I can't help it. And I know I need to stay grounded in today: I can look toward the future and back at the past, but I have to be careful not to stare. It's staring at the past/future that throws me off kilter.

Anyway, I thought I would check in tonight with a quick blog before I head to the hospital.

Take care!

Mike L.

Prerequisites to Critical Moments

2010-09-07T15:48:00.000-07:00

As I've mentioned several times recently, I've been chewing on something I read recently and I just can't let it go: The one obstacle to grace is control. Ever since I read that line in David Richo's book, When Love Meets Fear, I've seemed to have this truth front and center in my consciousness most of the days since I first read it. As I've been doing this "fear work" that I also mentioned in my last blog entry, the connection between the felt need to control things in my life and fearfulness is so close as to make them indistinguishable.

This morning as I was thinking about three of my sponsees who are all seemingly stuck in a very early recovery, I had a series of thoughts that sort of came pouring out:

the prerequisite of grace is letting go of control
the prerequisite of letting go of control is willingness
the prerequisite of willingness is not wanting to do something
the prerequisite to doing something that you don't want to do is hopelessness or despair.

It's very hard to watch people holding on to control as though their life depended on their holding on to what they are holding on to. It's especially hard when you know that the solution is not in holding on, but in letting go.

I just left a men's meeting at Old St. Mary's Church in downtown San Francisco. The man who led the meeting read something from page 164 in the Big Book, including the most humble of all lines in our Big Book: "Our book is meant to be suggestive only. We realize we know only a little." I am truly aware of my own ignorance when it comes to what will work for another person. I barely know what works for me and oftentimes I only learn that after thousands of failures and deadends and lots of pain.

So what do I know when I suggest to another suffering alcoholic that they consider trying what worked for me? Nothin. If anyone had suggested that I "let go" a moment before I did on the morning of October 20, 2001, I would have told them to go to hell and I would have stomped off without a clue as to what else I might try. I let go only when there was no energy left to hold on and no other options.

I suppose that will happen with these guys also. Or at least, I hope so. There's always the other alternatives of jails, institutions and death. Once again, I have to let the disease do the hard work of sponsoring the guys dumb enough to ask me to sponsor them.

Take care!

Mike L.

Commitment to Fear Work

2010-09-04T14:45:00.000-07:00

As I mentioned in my last blog, I've been reading another book by David Richo called "When Love Meets Fear: Becoming Defense-less and Resource-full". Great book. It's where I got the line about the one obstacle to grace being control. Boy, has that line been turning over my life as a gardner would turn over garden soil at the end/beginning of a growing season!

Further into the book, Richo (who is not a recovering alcoholic, but who has psychotherapy clients who are...) writes down a long list of affirmations all having to do with fear. He refers to the list as an inventory. This week, I committed to memorizing this list of affirmations (all 156 of them...) over the next several weeks. Memorization and recitation is a huge, albeit strange and ongoing part of my recovery work. It has been almost from the beginning and for the last couple of months I've been waiting to come across something new and beautiful to memorize.

This list of fear affirmations jumped out at me and after getting over the initial block of "there's way too many of these to memorize!" negative thoughts, I quickly responded to the fearful self with a kind reminder that I don't have to memorize all 156 at once. I can do them, like many other things I've memorized or committed to in the past, one line, one day at a time.

Here are the first twenty affirmations to give you a sense of this different type of fear inventory: (FYI: I've found that when memorizing a long list like this it works best when I go one line at a time and then progress forward in groups of five --once I have five lines down pat, I move on to the next group of five, one line at a time):

I trust my true fears to give me signals of danger.
I admit that I also have false fears and worries.
I feel compassion toward myself for all the years I have been afraid.
I forgive those who hypnotized me into unreal fears.
I suggest now to myself, over and over, that I am freeing myself from fear.

I have fearlessness to match my fear.
I trust my powers and resourcefulness as a man.
I trust my abundant creativity.
I trust the strength that opens and blossoms in me when I have to face something.
I believe in myself as a man/woman who handles what comes his way today.

I know how to rise to a challenge.
I am more and more aware of how I hold fear in my body.
I stop storing fear in my body.
Now I relax those holding places.
I open my body to joy and serenity.

I release my body from the clench of fear.
I relax the parts of me that hold fear the most.
I let go of the stress and tension that come from fear.
I let go of fear based thoughts.
I let go of basing my decisions on fear.

As I have been doing this memory work, I think that it's having a real impact on what is happening in my life. In the last week since I've been doing this work, I've encountered four different people, three of them sponsees in very early recovery and another person who writes a blog recommended to me by a recovery blogger who thought I might be of help to this person she'd encountered in the blogosphere. All four of them are going through their own dark nights of the soul. Each is dancing close to a level of hopelessness and despair that almost leads me to call 911 and have them taken into protective 72 hour mental health hold. And in fact, one of them was hospitalized on Monday night for just that reason: his friends thought that he was in danger of hurting himself or committing suicide.

With each, I've attempted to be with them in their despair. I'm not at all confident that I am saying the "right thing", helping or hurting. I strongly suggested that one go into a 30 day treatment center or detox unit, but he refused because he doesn't want to be a "loser who goes into rehab." When I heard him say that, I paused briefly to consider how to best respond and ended up blurting out, "Well, too bad! Go anyway!" After a brief silence and just as I was thinking that he was going to hang up on me, he began to laugh from his gut, almost hysterically for several minutes. He thanked me for making him laugh for the first time in 9 months (he'd had some years sober but had fallen away from meetings, got involved with a younger woman and when she broke up with him and learned of his alcoholism, he drank. He's not been able to get sober for the last 9 months... Later that same night I got a short text message from him letting me know that his friends had had him hospitalized. He's out now and I believe still sober...but still resisting the rehab.

All four of these people have reminded me of the importance of hopelessness and despair. Dr.Earle used to say, "Thank God for Despair!" (in fact, he wrote an article in the AA Grapevine years ago with that title). The reason for his gratitude for such an unlikely candidate as Despair was that he'd learned over the years that while despair was quite painful and unpleasant, if only he would be willing to walk or sit through it, inevitably on the other side of despair would come some form of enlightenment or awakening. Always. I've begrudgingly come to agree with this insight. I sent him a text yesterday saying that the prerequisite to willingness was not wanting to do something. And in that since, he was in a really good place!

I've watched fear up close this week. I feel more alive. I feel more, period. I think I'm going to keep doing this fear work. Even though it frightens me somewhat. ;-)

Take care!

Mike L.

The One Obstacle to Grace

2010-08-22T12:01:00.000-07:00

This morning, the chairperson at the meeting was telling her beautiful recovery story when she got to the moment where for some strange reason she too was able to stop drinking. It happened one morning in January 1999. It was seemingly no different from any of the mornings over the last few years since she really started trying to get and stay sober. During those two years, she'd started going to AA and she kept going back even after she would drink again. Then came this one morning where she woke up and something different happened. Something changed.

As she talked more about this particular morning, she wondered aloud,"I don't know what was different on that morning." Nothing, as far as she could tell, had changed. It was a morning like many many others that followed another attempt to drink like a normal person. That history notwithstanding, that morning she was struck by a new resolve born of desperation: she was going to do "whatever it took" to stay sober that day. Now, 11 years later, she still really doesn't have any idea what really changed that morning to allow her sobriety to take hold and to last--at the very least--until this day.

As soon as she talked about that special morning -- I became entranced with my own memories of my special morning almost 9 years ago. You see, I had that same identical experience of having many months of waking up confronted by the same idea: "I can't stop drinking!!" And like her, on my special morning something changed and I knew it as soon as it happened. For some reason, that morning I had a second thought follow the first: "Not being able to stop drinking is called alcoholism. And alcoholism is a disease." Wow. Or rather, Duh! A 1st Step moment.

What's a little strange is that I had already known the fact about alcoholism being a disease for many years--at least at a head level, but it had never sunk to heart level until that special morning. I suppose that in the past, I'd always thought I could either overcome that inability with even greater willpower or I could just give up trying and just do my best to not get caught. It was a disease that would or could go away. Not one that would always be a part of me.

Today, when the chairperson wondered aloud that she didn't have a clue as to what happened that morning, I realized that something I had read last night that seemed to hold the answer to this question, at least for me. Last night before going to bed, I was reading another book by David Richo, this one called When Love Meets Fear. In it, he said something along the lines of this:

The one obstacle to grace is control.

That's what happened to me that special morning of October 20, 2001! On that day I gave up trying to control my drinking. I realize now that trying to stop drinking is yet another attempt to to control not alcohol, but to control alcoholism. Prior to that morning, I was trying to stop drinking only as a means to avoid being an alcoholic. And in my insane mind, stopping drinking was the only way to avoid being or becoming an alcoholic. And I just did not want to be an alcoholic like my dad (or even my son!).

The thought or desire to be someone other than who you are is insane. And that's why I'd never been able to stop drinking: because as soon as I'd convince myself that I had stopped, then I'd say to myself, "Well, you've stopped! Therefore, you're not really an alcoholic!" And inevitably, like most alcoholics who finally convince themselves that they are really not an alcoholic: I'd celebrate by drinking!

What happened to me that special morning was that I unknowingly (but willingly) gave up my control over my alcoholism and my never-ending problem with stopping drinking. And as result, I think, grace was able to step into the process. Grace: an unmerited gift. As a result of grace, I was able to stop stopping. As a result of grace, I was able to start trying to stay sober, as an alcoholic, one day at a time.

What I'm focusing on today is the fact that control has many forms and manifestations in my life today. Control will lead me to believe that a particular feeling, say anxiety, depression, sadness, or loneliness, should be allowed to be or to surface. And as a result of that decision of control, I then choose to seek some alternative or escape to the undesirable or unwanted feeling. I run. I go to a meeting. I get up and do anything other than just sit. I try to use some AA tool, like writing a gratitude list, as a surefire means of avoiding the feelings that want to see the light of day. True, these are all better choices to drinking! But they are similar ways of controlling life as life is. Not something I want to do. [I know, grace is not retroactive -- it's always right here, right now--so I don't need to waste time beating myself up for all my past attempts to avoid reality or to run from feelings.]

Over the next week, I'm going to try and become more aware of these moments which tend to lead me to unskilled attempts to control what's coming up naturally from within. I'm going to try and let those feelings be just as they are for at least one minute more than I would habitually do previously. I'm going to try and be open to moments of grace.

And I'm apparently going to do that while I'm in Las Vegas, Nevada where I'm heading now for a five day business conference! There's something hilarious in this plan to be sure.

Take care!

Mike L.

Raising Our Hand

2010-08-08T15:35:00.000-07:00

Every once and awhile I hear someone say that one of their motives for staying sober is that they don't want to have to raise their hand again. Raising our hands and declaring that we are in our first 30 days of recovery seems, for many of us, to involve some amount of guilt and/or shame. And even more so when we're doing that "again" (or again and again...).

This week, I was blessed to see a friend of mine raise his hand again and declare himself to be back in his first thirty days of recovery. In fact, it was day three for him. He'd not raised his hand at the beginning of the meeting when the secretary had asked if there was anyone in their first thirty days. He'd actually been to several meetings since his relapse over the weekend, but he'd just been unable to raise his hand and let people know. I think it was his second relapse since first beginning his recovery several years ago. Before he used and drank this last weekend, he'd had just gotten to two years of sobriety a few weeks before. He was having a hard time disclosing the fact that he'd relapsed, but for some reason, he kept coming to meetings.

On Wednesday, he was unable to raise his hand when the secretary had asked. But then what happened was that while "How It Works" was being read, he was struck by the repeated use of "honest" in the first paragraph of that reading. Somehow, he realized that keeping his relapse a secret from us was going to get him drunk and he needed to fess up. So he raised his hand shortly thereafter and said, "I'm Mike and I'm an alcoholic. And I've been lying to you. I even lied to my sponsor as I walked into this meeting today. I drank this weekend and this is Day Three for me."

He briefly explained what had happened. It'd happened so fast. He'd taken a week's vacation with his daughter and had a wonderful time. And then when he came back, he dropped his daughter off with her mother and he went to house sit a friend's house for a couple of days. Something about being alone in that house triggered some pains from the past and before he knew it he was going through the friend's medicene cabinet looking for drugs. He found them and took them. And the next thing he knew, he was getting drunk. That was a Saturday.

On Sunday, he awakened to waves of guilt and shame. And then he went to a meeting. While he didn't raise his hand, he kept going to meetings for the next three days and he didn't drink. Ultimately, the secret became too much of a burden and he spilled it all out for us on Wednesday. I thanked him for what he disclosed because, among other things, he showed me that it's possible to come back and raise your hand again --- and that everyone welcomes you. No one judges you (at least out loud) or condemns you. How could we??? We'd be condemning ourselves!

I understand why people talk about not wanting to raise their hand again, but for me, I think it's a misplaced fear. For me, the day I first raised my hand and disclosed, "I'm Mike and I'm an alcoholic!" was the best day in my life to date. I haven't had a better day since. I've had lots of great days since that first disclosure of who I was as an alcoholic, but none better than that day. As I've mentioned before, the first time I really raised my hand to disclose this truth was the morning of October 20, 2001: I was in bed next to my still sleeping wife. I'd awakened to the same thought I'd had every day the last ten months: "I can't stop drinking!" And then a new thought followed, "Not being able to stop drinking is called alcoholism. And alcoholism is just a disease!" And then I saw myself sitting in a circle of people at my son's rehab and instead of lying like I had for the last ten months, I shared with them the truth: My name is Mike and I'm an alcoholic!"

When I did that, even though the people and situation were all in my head, I experienced a freedom I'd been seeking for years. A freedom from the compulsion or obsession to drink. A freedom from the need to put effort into "not drinking". A freedom to be me.

I don't fear raising my hand again. If I drink again, I know what I'll need to do to get back into the mode of recovery. I'll need to return to the rooms and let my friends know what happened and that I'm back to begin again.

It's funny, a few nights ago (after this guy raised his hand on Wednesday) I had my first drinking dream in several years. I was sitting at a table and there was a pitcher of lemon aide and Vodka sitting in front of me. I poured a glass from the pitcher knowing that it was full of lemon aide and Vodka, but it didn't dawn on me that Vodka was alcohol. Strange, huh. Anyway, I poured myself a glass and then began drinking it. It's the first time that I've had a drinking dream where I actually remember the act of drinking! Anyway, I was drinking this and then I started feeling a slight buzz. And then the idea came to me, I'm getting a buzz because this has alcohol in it! Fuck!

I woke with a start and my heart beating rapidly. Feeling as though this had actually happened, I was disappointed that I had drank, but the very first thought was that I needed to get up and go to the Concord Fellowship 6:30am meeting and raise my hand! Now! Within a few seconds, it became clear that it was just a dream and that I didn't need to raise my hand as being in my first 30 days. But I knew that that would be what I'd need to do if I did drink.

I've been thinking a lot about how much weight or importance we put on long term sobriety --- I wonder if we go a little too far in that regard because it seems to set an unrealistic goal for most of us alcoholics. Takes us a little off the more secure path of One Day At a Time mantra of AA. I don't possess 8.5 years of sobriety. It's not something I own. I can't sell it. I really can't lose it. I cherish it. I feel tremendously grateful for it. But my focus needs to remain with today. I can be sober only one day: today. I can't be sober tomorrow (that can only be a hope or a dream). I can't be sober yesterday (that is only a memory). I can stay sober today.

Take care!

Mike L.

A Change in Perception

2010-08-01T12:04:00.000-07:00

On Friday morning I attended a memorial for an oldtimer from around here who'd died with 39 years of sobriety. A great man. His name was Wayne Smith from Walnut Creek. He'd sometimes begin his shares with, "Hi, I'm Wayne S. from Walnut C." He was a master storyteller and will be greatly missed. At the reception, someone had placed a bunch of CDs of a speaker meeting talk that Wayne had given years ago and on the way home from the memorial I listened to Wayne's pitch. It was wonderful, but it was even more wonderful to hear his voice again, full of life. He mentioned in it that he'd loved AA from the very beginning and it was the longest love affair of his whole life.

In his story though, he said something about The Steps that I'd never heard before and that was that the Steps were all about perception, or more accurately, changing our perception on a variety of important things in our lives. Each step was, according to Wayne, all about changing our perspective from what was unhealthy and/or untrue to a new perspective that was more healthy and true. He then gave examples from his own life to explain what he meant. He said that the 1st Step was, for him, all about changing his perception about who he was in terms of his relationship with alcohol: for years, he had thought that alcohol was something that he could control and manage.... And that the 1st Step was about changing that misperception to something more accurate and true: that alcohol was not something he could control and that with alcohol in him, his life had become totally unmanageable.

I knew exactly what he meant, I only wish that he had gone through with more examples from his life to show how each of the remaining 11 steps helped him change his perspective to become more healthy and true. And since yesterday, I have been mulling over how each of the 12 steps have helped me change my perspective on my life and on myself.

For me, the 1st step didn't involve changing my perception of alcohol. Rather, it changed my perception of me as an alcoholic. In the past, I'd thought that it was possible to avoid becoming an alcoholic (like my dad, I must add) by controlling my drinking, by proving to myself (when necessary) that I could stop drinking or by drinking like a non-alcoholic. What happened in my 1st step was waking up to the reality that I was an alcoholic and that being an alcoholic wasn't my problem! My problem was my 30 year attempt NOT to be an alcoholic. Thirty years of trying to drink "like" a non-alcoholic! That delusion changed the morning I woke up on October 20, 2001 and realized that I couldn't stop drinking and that "not being able to stop drinking" was called "alcoholism" and that I was, like it or not!, an alcoholic. That morning, being an alcoholic was perfectly OK. It was just a disease and I just happened to have it. Everything in my past life immediately became understandable. It all made sense! That's why I did what I did! Ahhhh. That was two days before my first meeting of AA.

The 2nd step then changed how I was going to move forward with the remainder of my life. It wasn't so much about believing in a particular concept of God. It was more about my own letting go of the idea that I was God or God-like. And my drinking was an essential part of me being God-like: that is, I could change people (me and others), places and things all by means of a drink. And another. And another. People, places and things all had one thing in common: they were not the way I thought they should be! And if God wasn't going to fix that problem, I would help Him out. And when I couldn't do that on my own, I resorted to the use of alcohol. Once I got sober, my perspective changed in relatively short fashion: I began to realize that I wasn't God and that I didn't need to do that God Act any more. Everyone, everything and every situation was perfect just the way it was at that moment in time and I didn't need to get back into the battle of making the universe conform to the way I thought it should be. For me, the return to sanity didn't involve some sort of return to mental health. My alcoholic insanity wasn't mental illness. It was the deeply ingrained belief that there was something wrong with me and that I needed to be or to become someone different than who I was. Trying to be someone I wasn't is my definition of insanity. Sanity then was the gradual awareness that I was perfect just the way I am and that this perfection includes the fact that my body processes alcohol and other mind-altering drugs differently than non-alcoholics and non-addicts.

The 3rd step continued that change in perspective from the inside out. My 3rd step did not involve kneeling down to some Higher Power or even a decision to do so. My 3rd step involved letting go of my death grip on life and letting things be just the way they were. I no longer needed to play God.

The 4th thru the 9th steps all changed my perception of myself in that I had deeply held beliefs that there was something very wrong with me. I came into the rooms carrying quite a heavy sack of shit: an invisible but still heavy sack of guilt (for things I had done) and shame (for who I thought I was). In the 4th step, I began this change from the inside: with who I was and with what I had done, both the so-called good and the so-called bad. I wrote down all the things from my past that "made me wince". With the help of my sponsors, I wrote without judgment or condemnation.

In my 5th step, I shared my secrets and ultimately, I shared the "exact nature of my wrongs." For me, that process changed me in the most profound of ways. I was no longer a bad person trying to become good; I was a sick person trying to become well. And I still am. I began to look at myself with eyes of compassion and understanding and I was able to do that by first seeing that compassion and understanding reflected in the eyes of my sponsors as they looked at me.

The 6th and 7th steps were a continuation of 4 and 5: they were all about changing how I saw myself. The change has not been so much one of identifying or changing what's supposedly wrong with me (i.e., shortcomings or defects of character) but rather, coming to see things that I thought were wrong with me and now seeing them more as being just perfect! The greatest example of that truth is my alcoholism. I'd thought for 30 years that being an alcoholic was the worst possible thing I could become: it turns out that it was the best thing that could ever happen to me! Having alcoholism is not a shortcoming or a defect. My shortcoming, if you want me to have one, was trying to be someone I wasn't. The 6th and 7th steps have been extremely helpful in identifying other aspects of who I am that I once thought to be "wrong" and changing that perception to become more healthy and accurate. More compassionate. More loving.

The 8th and 9th steps started me on a journey more to the outside of me: to my actions and behaviors and how they impacted or harmed others. Both in the past and now. These steps allowed me to take my newfound perspectives and apply them to my relationships with others. While all my past actions were needed for me to become who I am now, the fact is that much of my past acts harmed others in some significant ways and the damage to those relationships continued into the present. These steps gave me a mechanism to go back to these people and begin a process of healing and forgiveness. Only in a few instances did this amends process involve saying the words, "I'm sorry." Most of the time, it involved my sharing my story and what was going on with me back when... I hadn't meant to hurt them as I clearly did and I was now wanting to clean up those messes and harms as best I could. My sack of shit got lighter and lighter as a result.

The last three steps have given me a regular daily routine whereby I can continue the basic "inside out" work I did in the previous nines steps. The 10th step gives me a daily process where I can refocus my view of myself and my actions. Where have I done harm and what can I do to repair the damage I may have done? How can I do that with compassion and loving-kindness, both for others and for myself?

The 11th step gives me a daily practice where I can be quiet and know that I am not God. I am Mike and I'm an alcoholic. And that's perfectly OK! It gives me breathing room.

The 12th step has totally turned my life upside down and it happens again and again as I try to share what I have been given with others who struggle with this disease. Each one of my sponsees, as well as many others in my life, have changed me by the fact that they trust me with their secrets and struggles. I really don't think I give them much other than an ear and a few stories of what happened to me in similar circumstances. I inevitably walk away from our time together with a totally different perspective on my day and myself. I am blessed.

Wayne was right: The Steps and this whole recovery process are all about changing our preception and our perspectives. I'll miss you my friend!!

Take care!

Mike L.

"I Just Can't Stop Drinking!"

2010-07-24T10:08:00.000-07:00

I suppose that since I've always gone to many meetings (over 1 a day average over 8 years) that there are few things that can be said in an AA meeting that really bother me. That said, there are a couple of statements that always have a visceral impact on me when I hear people say them in an AA meeting. One is when a newcomer comes in to the rooms and says something along the lines of "I realize now that I need to stop drinking... for the rest of my life."   It's the "rest of my life" comment that makes my stomach twist and tighten. Another comment is when people describe their moment of clarity as the point in time when the were finally able to stop drinking and they say something like, "I stopped drinking...". In that phrase it's the "I" that ends up causing an immediate visceral reaction in me. I not only don't relate to people's plan to never drink again for the rest of their lives or to alcoholic's claim to have stopped, I get concerned, if not outright nervous, that such approaches to sobriety are shaky foundations to longer term sobriety.

Yesterday I was at the 6:30am Concord Fellowship meeting and at the time when the secretary asked if there were any newcomers, a guy raised his hand and said that he was an alcoholic and had only a few days. He wasn't sure how many days, but he looked pretty beaten down. I'd seen this guy come in and go out of the meetings many times in the last 3-4 years. Everytime he came back in, his life situation got worse and worse. He would get a sponsor and begin the steps, but it seemed that he'd always disappear again within 3-6 months. Yesterday seemed no different except for the fact that his life situation was even worse after this last relapse: ex-wife was dying of cancer and older son was facing 25 to life for abusing his son -- the newcomer's grandson.

After the chair had shared his story, he eventually called on this newcomer and asked him if he'd like to share. The man told us of his worsening life situation and ended with a heartfelt admission that he "just can't stop drinking!"   As the meeting went on to other shares, I couldn't stop thinking about that comment, "I can't stop drinking!" It was the one thing that I most related to in the whole meeting that day. While I suspected that the newcomer felt he was the only one in that room that couldn't stop drinking -- I knew in my core that that was really the one thing that this guy had most in common with everyone in that room --- or at least, I knew that he and I both shared the same basic inability to stop drinking. I eventually shared that view with the group, in a subtle form of crosstalk directed at this newcomer, and told him that I thought the idea that we are the only ones in the room who "can't stop drinking" is a mistaken belief. In my view, the one thing I most have in common with other alcoholics, most particularly those in recovery, is the inability to stop drinking.

In fact, I think that's the good news of the AA program from the beginning. In AA we discover that we can't stop drinking because we are powerless over alcohol. We are powerless over alcohol in the sense that our bodies process alcohol differently than non-alcoholics and because of the nature of that particular disease, we are unable to change or alter that fact. Our only solution then is to give up trying to stop drinking (as that's impossible for us) and to begin trying to stay sober today. Just for today. Not tomorrow. Not for the rest of our lives. Just for today. And if today's too much for us, we can narrow the scope down even further: Just for this hour. Just for this minute. Just for now. And now, just for now.

As I was talking, I glanced over at the newcomer and tears were falling down his cheeks. And I knew that I'd touched something in him. And then I stopped. To go further would be to lecture.

After the newcomer had originally raised his hand at the beginning of the meeting, the secretary had asked for members of the group who were willing and able to sponsor men to raise their hands. Because I already have at least a dozen active sponsees, I didn't think I could take on another sponsee at this time in my life. I was tremendously proud though when I looked across the room and see one of my sponsee's raise his hand and offer his service in this regard.  I've always thought that he would make a great sponsor despite my poor example.

At the end of the meeting, I did go over and hug the newcomer and tell him to hang in there. Things were going to get better (and worse) if he found a way to stay sober today. That said, it goes without question that if he's unable to stay sober today, things would continue to get worse and worse and that that progression downward would pickup more and more steam the longer it took him to get and stay sober, one day at a time. I also suggested to him (and to my sponsee) that it might be a good idea for him to get into a detox facility sooner rather than later (he was addicted not only to the drug alcohol, but to some other very powerful drugs that make his situation all the more tragic/urgent).

I wish him well. This is not a pretty disease.

Take care!

Mike L.

Three Stories About Hopelessness

2010-06-28T11:16:00.000-07:00

For some time now, I've been a firm believer in the synchronisticy of life events. Some people refer to them as coincidences. This last week, I knew that I was going to be chairing a meeting on Friday and during the week, I was on the lookout for a topic or a direction for that chair to take. By the time I was sitting in the chair at noon on Friday, I knew that the topic had to be hopelessness.

On the previous Wednesday, I been in San Francisco for the day and was able to go to an afternoon meeting at Old St. Mary's Church. The meeting format was for a woman who had just reached her 6 month sobriety milestone to tell her story for the first time, for her to pick a topic and then for people to share. The chair would pick one person to begin the sharing and then it would just go around the room until everyone got a chance to share briefly on that topic.

The woman was so relieved by the time she finished her chair that she couldn't think of any topic, so she made the topic, whatever you'd like to talk about. I didn't really have anything going on, so I just listened to each person share about what was going on with them. After each person shared, I felt a connection with each one of them and I also came up with something relevant to that person's comment and that relieved me of the temptation to think about what I was going to share and thereby not listen to the next person who shared. Anyway, that happened each time that someone shared. I identified with them and I remembered a story from my own life that related to what each person was struggling with in their lives.

By the time it was almost my time to talk, I had no idea which of my stories I wanted to share. So many stories, so little time. I'm not a short story sorta guy. In fact, I'm realizing now, that I wanted to tell three stories about Hopelessness and I'm not even done with the first story and I've gone on too long already for one blog. Oh, well.

Anyway, the time came for the woman two seats to my right to share and I could tell she was very troubled. She'd come into the meeting a little late, shortly after the time had come and gone for newcomers to raise their hands so that we could begin to get to know them and be of help. She shared with us her name and said that this was her first day back in meetings. She'd relapsed and it was horrible. She cried. She couldn't say anything more. She looked around the room quickly and then shrugged her shoulders and said, "I'm hopeless!".

Well, now I had a story to tell. I didn't even try to listen to the man's share next to me. I just began trying to piece together my own hopelessness story in the hope I could tell it well enough to be helpful to the woman to my right. I knew instinctively that she believed that her hopelessness was bad and a clear sign for all of us to see of her failed attempts at life and sobriety. I wanted to gently let her know that things were not so bad, in fact, she was experiencing the most important event of her life. A new beginning possible only from a moment of hopelessness.

I shared my moment of hopelessness which came after ten months of being unable to stop drinking. The ten months had begun when my 15 year old son reached his own moment of hopelessness and began his own journey of recovery from addiction. My moment of hopelessness came the morning of October 21, 2001 --- the night before my son had almost caught me drinking. I'd successfully lied my way out of his discovery, but I'd gone to bed the night before feeling like shit. Pat was 5 months and 10 days sober: how come I couldn't stop drinking and support him in his recovery?

Anyway, my moment of hopelessness occurred the following morning. I woke up at 6am with the clearest of ideas greeting me: "I just can't stop drinking!" It was a thought that I had had most mornings for the last couple of years of my life. What was different that morning though was that this first thought of hopelessness was followed by a second thought: "Not being able to stop drinking is called alcoholism and alcoholism is a disease." For the first time in my life, it was perfectly OK to be an alcoholic.

I then looked at the woman to my right and said that some years ago I heard the greatest line I'd ever heard. It was at a meeting when the chair shared what she considered her favorite line -- she'd stolen it from her sponsor years ago. Her sponsor had said that she'd gotten sober "at the corner of Grace and Willingness." I loved that line from the get go. I went up to the chair woman after the meeting, thanked her and let her know that I too was going to steal her sponsor's line about the corner of Grace and Willingness. She laughed. I asked her to chair a meeting for me in two weeks at the Lafayette Hut and she graciously accepted.

As soon as I left the meeting, I realized that while it was a great line, it didn't describe where I'd gotten sober. I had surely gotten sober as a result of Grace: my sober moment was not the result of my effort or thought process. My sober moment was a gift from something or someone outside of myself. It took me about two weeks of chewing on this question. Eventually it came to me two weeks later, just as the chair woman walked into the Lafayette Hut. She sat down next to me at the head of the table and I leaned over to thank her for coming out to chair this meeting. And then I reminded her about her line about getting sober at the corner of Grace and Willingness. She smiled and then I told her that while I loved the line, it was not where I got sober. She smiled and asked, "Well, then, where did you get sober?" "I got sober at the corner of Grace and Hopelessness! It's about a half block down from the corner of Grace and Willingness!"

I then looked over at woman to my right in her first day of sobriety --- she was laughing and I think things were now becoming "right" in her world.

Thank God for Hopelessness! It gives us the ability to accept things as they are without any need to change or pretend to be someone we're not. My problem wasn't that I was an alcoholic. My problem was that I was an alcoholic who was trying (hopelessly!) to be a non-alcoholic!

Take care! I will tell you my third story about hopelessness in a day or so. My wife and I are getting on a cruise ship later today for a two week cruise to Alaska. I'll try to get that blog published before she throws me overboard.

Mike L.

I'm not ready yet....

2010-05-30T11:14:00.000-07:00

I read a great little story the other day that shed a lot of light on some uncertainty and doubt over my own ability to sponsor others. Or at least do that well.

The story was about a therapist who was walking home one day when he was acosted by a guy who walked up to the therapist asking if he knew where a certain street was located. The therapist replied, "Yes, just go down the street here and turn left at the first intersection." The stranger seemed to understand the directions, so the therapist continued toward his home. At one point, the therapist looked back and saw that the stranger was going in the opposite direction than he'd directed him. The therapist called out, "Hey! You're going in the wrong direction!"

The stranger turned around and yelled back, "Yes, I know! I'm not ready to go there yet!"

So true! I rarely (if ever) find myself in a position where I know, without uncertainty, what a sponsee or other friend in recovery may need to go or what they should do. There are times where I sense that what might good, better or best for the other person and I will then share that as a suggestion which might be worth their consideration.

That's all well and good. I just need to learn how to let it go at that point and detach myself from whatever it is the other person chooses to do. That's their issue and it has nothing to do with me. Even the suggestion that the other should consider not drinking --- the truth of the matter is that some people are simply not ready to go there yet.

When they are ready, I can try to be there for them with my hand extended.

Take care!

Mike L.

AA Didn't Work for Him... Really?

2010-05-27T08:06:00.000-07:00

I was listening to someone's chair/story the other day and he mentioned that before getting sober he once spent 5 years as a member of Synanon, founded by someone who'd once tried AA but found it didn't work for him. During the discussion period afterward, someone shared that this Synanon founder eventually got drunk and died. People laughed. I admit that I joined them, chuckling by impulse, but something felt odd about laughing at someone's dying from this disease and also about their claim that AA didn't work for them. The presumption seems to be that when people claim that AA didn't work for them, these people weren't ready or weren't willing to do what it takes for this program to work. If AA doesn't work, it's not AA's fault.

I'm not sure that's always the case. Does AA not work for some people? Sure! But why? I've been mulling this over for awhile now and I want to share some of my thoughts on this topic.

First, I don't think "AA" fails anyone. AA is an organization and doesn't have some separate personal existence or identify that any one person can "experience" by walking into any particular meeting or by talking to any particular member of AA. Whatever a meeting or member might do or say in terms of conveying the AA message (whatever that is...) to an interested non-member will never represent AA in it's entirety or completeness. It will always fall short of the ideal that we each might have in mind when we think of AA in all its potential and beauty.

To the extent that an incomplete or distorted message of recovery gets conveyed to the newcomer, that's not a failing of AA. It's an unavoidable failing of that particular meeting or member of AA. Unfortunately, far too many (one would be too many...) people experience such incomplete or poorly conveyed message of recovery by a group or individual. We're not perfect, as a group or as individual members of AA.

Luckily for me, when I walked into my first meeting, I was just willing and desperate enough to overcome some of the defects/flaws in the messages being conveyed to me, intentionally or not, when I first started coming to AA meetings over 8 years ago. And as I listen to or read stories from others, members or not, who had bad experiences when they first tried AA, I'm glad that I didn't face some of the intellectual hurdles others had to overcome in order to make it all the way into this weird organization called Alcoholics Anonymous.

All that said, I don't want to become complacent and just trust that we're doing good enough for those who are willing and desperate enough to overcome all obstacles to giving AA a chance at providing a solution for suffering alcoholics. It seems incumbant for us all to try to do everything we can to remove any obstacles to a suffering alcoholic's recovery as possible, to take care with our words and message so that we give as many people as possible an ability to find a solution like we have here in AA. That's not to say that we try to become all things to all people: but it is to say that we should always strive to reach out to more people and to be more effective at conveying the AA message of recovery.

Secondly, I think that given the weirdness of this particular organization, where there is no Pope or ultimate authority or rigid structure/doctrine, the message conveyed to the newcomer will always include something of a mixed bag of fruit and nuts. I personally think that there's as many ways to work this AA program as there are members of AA. True, many might strongly disagree with that opinion of mine, but that really only proves my point because all of us who disagree and agree with that statement are still equal and full-fledged voting members of AA even though we have strong differences of opinions on pretty important inside issues.

These two points may appear contradictory: we need to do more and we will always fall short. But that's not the only paradox I've found in my recovery or in the AA progam. I'm sure it won't be the last either. I'm grateful that AA has worked for me and has given me a framework through which I've been able to fashion a way of sober living that works just right for this alcoholic.

Take care!

Mike L.

Life Boring?

2010-05-27T07:52:00.000-07:00

At my Wednesday night home group meeting last night, a guy who'd just passed the 30-day mark in his sobriety shared about how although he was glad to be sober 30 days, he was feeling somewhat bored with his life. He felt that all he was doing was getting up, going to work, going to a meeting and then going to bed. He was bored sick! We all laughed, I suppose because we'd all been there -- and even those with years of sobriety were still capable of feeling such boredom even now.

Since at this meeting we allow others to give us feedback during the meeting, this guy got some feedback based on what others had done when they found themselves in similar situations: try taking up a commitment in one of your meetings just so that you're "a part of" and not just a passive observer in your own recovery.... be patient, don't drink and these periods will pass... when these feelings come, talk about it with your sponsor or, like he had just done, with other alcoholics... try making a gratitude list and if that's difficult, read pages 416-420 of the Big Book.

I shared with him that when I hear someone complaining about being bored with their life, I ask them to tell me more about what they are doing with their days over a week or month's time. Invariably, what I discover is that the reason they are feeling bored is that they are leading a boring life! The cause of boredom is oftentimes BEING boring! The definition of boring is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting the SAME results!

Doing the same thing today for my sobriety that I did yesterday or last week or last year will not keep me sober today. Thank God!

I'm all for structure and routine. In fact, I'm probably obsessively just that! But I regularly shake things up in my schedule and routine. I try to go to different meetings, new meetings that I've never been to before. I will sometimes leave the house with the intention of going to a 6:30am meeting (like I did today) and realize that I really don't want to go to that meeting today. I'd rather go to work early and spend an hour blogging about something, anything! Even boredom! Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't. I sometimes do something just because it's uncomfortable or different.

I love my life. It's rich. Multi-colored. Curvy and zig zaggedy. Full of different and oftentimes contradictory feelings, moods and attitudes. My life often doesn't go according to plan and, in retrospect, that's what makes it so rich and full. And when the rare time comes where I find my life becoming boring, I know from experience that the ball's in my court. Life isn't waiting to live me.

Take care!

Mike L.

Why Communal Prayer Seems Inappropriate Within AA Meetings

2010-05-10T20:31:00.000-07:00

I was at a meeting Saturday morning when someone announced to the group that at the request of one of the members, the group was going to go through a group conscience process concerning a request by one of the members to change the meeting format such that the customary closing of the meeting would no longer include praying the Lord's Prayer and that we would begin using the Serenity Prayer instead. Although the meeting was a Step meeting (and that week we were reading the 8th Step from the 12x12...), several people during the meeting shared their thoughts and opinions about the issue of the Lord's Prayer, most seemed against changing the format and gave various rationales for keeping things as they were.

I wasn't surprised by the trend given my sense that AAs don't like change and the only thing they dislike more than change is controversy or differences of opinion. In fact, my only surprise was my ability to not talk about this issue until towards the end of the meeting. I have strong feelings about this issue. Not just about the Lord's Prayer, but any communal prayer in the context of an AA meeting. I think it's wrong.

I think it causes harm, most particularly with the newcomer who hears one thing in our literature and format, but another thing quite the contrary in our actions. In the literature, we tell the newcomer that they don't have to believe in God to get or stay sober, that it's a purely personal decision for them to investigate for themselves and that they were completely free to define their "higher power" in any way they chose. Blah, blah, blah. And then, at the end of most meetings, the leader stands up and asks us to join him in closing the meeting with the Lord's Prayer. The people then stand, join hands in apparent solidarity and say this Christian prayer together. So much for a higher power of our own understanding.

To be clear, I am not against prayer. I pray frequently. I often use other people's prayers as a jumping off point for my own prayer. I memorize many prayers that I've found to express some deep resonating truth to me and recite them aloud as I drive to/from work---eventually modifying those prayers so that they become more "my" prayer and less someone else's prayer. Communal prayer though seems appropriate only in a religious community where there is a shared or common faith. Stealing such a communal prayer from any community, which is a strong AA tradition by the way!, seems a bad idea for AA (at least when we only steal prayers from one of the available religious traditions in the world).

The use of sectarian prayers, which includes the AA favorites of The Lord's Prayer, The Serenity Prayer and St. Francis (or Eleventh Step) Prayer, in an AA meeting expresses the reasonable interpretation or mistaken belief that we "in the circle and holding hands" are a part of that Christian or Judeo-Christian sect and that all our words, spoken or written to the contrary, were just meaningless words.

Am I going to bring about change in AA's long practice? I doubt it -- at least nothing substantial or quick. I share my thoughts on this inside issue whenever I think that I can be helpful, especially for someone who is new to this weird organization called AA. I do it with a sense of humor and, as best I can, with humility. Sometimes, I speak loudest by simply doing what I've done consistently for the last six or seven years: when a group is going about doing a communal prayer, I stand and join in the circle and I do nothing other than listen. Sometimes I pray silently. Sometimes I just observe others in the circle.

Sometimes, especially during the Serenity Prayer, I join the others by inserting my own silent words inbetween theirs: When they say, "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change..." -- I say to myself: "That would be you and much else out there!" Then, when they continue with, "Courage to change the things I can..." -- I say to myself, "That would be me and my attitudes!" And as they close with "And the wisdom to know the difference." -- I say to myself, "Yes, please!"

If the secretary asks me to take the group out with a prayer of my choice, I say the word "God?" with a question mark and then stop. The group usually doesn't notice that I just asked a question or plea toward God and they assume that the prayer of my choice is the Serenity Prayer. It isn't. The prayer of my choice is the word God followed by a question mark. That's it.

I believe one of AA's strongest and longest held traditions is the tradition of stealing prayers from other traditions and making them their own. We've taken great liberties with massaging these prayers of others to suit our own circumstance. I love people who when the Lord's Prayer is being prayed, change the word "name" to "names" -- those folks are aware of everything I've been saying in this blog tonite. Bless them!

I also noticed this last weekend when I was at my favorite Step Meeting that at the end of the chapter on Step 12, it closes with a different version of the Serenity Prayer than the one I hear prayed in AA meetings or placed on placards in meeting rooms. The version of the Serenity Prayer in the 12x12 is sometimes referred to as "The We Version of the Serenity Prayer" -- it isn't prayed in the 1st person. It's prayed together with others: God grant us the serenity to accept the things we cannot change..."

Someday, I'll make a motion at a business meeting that we take that version of the Serenity Prayer and, with a few changes, begin to use it to begin and close that meeting: the motion would be to begin using the new AA version of the Serenity Prayer:

Higher Power grant us the serenity to accept the things we cannot change; courage to change the things we can; wisdom to know the difference and love to do the next kind thing.

Higher Power gives everyone the ability to address this prayer to whatever they have come to hold as their higher power: whether that be some sort of personal, localized God, or not. It could mean a door knob. It could be Truth. It could be Not God. It could be the group itself. And, of course, this closing prayer would be purely optional to those who would like to participate. Anyone should feel perfectly free to not participate without separating themselves from the group or from AA.

Of course, for me to do that, I'd have to attend a business meeting. Not sure I'm that sober yet! ;-}

Take care!

Mike L.

What's Not a Blessing?

2010-04-27T21:22:00.000-07:00

At today's meeting, the chair suggested the topic of blessings --- in our recovery, what sort of blessings had we received as a result of our sobriety. I never got called on, so I got to practice listening. Everyone who shared talked of a wide array of blessings that they received since getting sober, most commented at least in passing on the blessing of sobriety itself and that certainly resonated within me.

OK, I have to admit my listening during the meeting was frequently interrupted by memories. I couldn't help remembering was the many things in my life which I never saw as gift or blessing when they were being experienced by me at the time. It was only in retrospect, after getting sober, that I began to see the blessing in these supposed unfortunate or unfair circumstances in my life. Of course, the greatest misfortune in my life was all the issues related to alcoholism: my father's alcoholism, my fear of becoming an alcoholic "like him", my son's addiction and his unknowing struggle to be just like me: a son who was not an addict like his father.

It was only after getting sober that I started looking at all these "wrongs" in a different manner and that's in large part due to a man named Earle. Earle had gotten sober two days after I'd been born and by the time I got sober, he'd been sober for over 48 years. Although he taught me many important lessons during the short 14 months I knew him before his death in January 2003, the greatest lessons involved learning to see myself as perfect, just as I am. This was a message that was difficult for me to accept or even to hear. It was seemingly inconsistent that much of the message I was hearing in the rooms of AA in my early months of recovery: the message which I heard being preached by many was that there was something terribly wrong with us and that sobriety involved not just "not drinking" but also cleaning house, being rid of defects of character and doing the right thing. At least, that was the message that I was hearing --- probably because of my own self-hatred, guilt over what I'd done over the years and shame over the alcoholic I had become despite my fears to the contrary.

Earle seemed to speak a different and discordant language. "Mike, you're perfect just the way you are! You don't have to change anything!" He seemed to know how much I wanted to be anything and to feel anything other than who I actually was and what I was actually feeling. He would elicit from me what I was feeling at any one time, but didn't want to feel and certainly didn't want to talk about with him or anyone else. Feelings scared the shit out of me. I was highly sensitive, in large part because I had been without my self-prescribed medication for too long and the feelings were sensing open season on assaulting me and paying me back for years of repression and denial.

He'd ask me how things were going. I'd try to evade him, but he was persistent beyond belief. I'd try to appease him with a tidbit of what was going on, "Oh, I'm doing fine, thanks." But he'd smile and say, "You wouldn't lie to an old man like me, would you?" I'd be disarmed by his smile and laugh back and say, "Well, yes, I guess I would." He'd laugh, and begin his gentle assault, "No, really. How are you doing?" I'd look up at the clock, praying that the meeting would begin soon -- but no such luck. "Well, I'm feeling a little down I guess."

He looked like he was really listening to me. But that obviously wasn't true, because once I was finished telling him how I was feeling, he'd ask me, "Well, what's wrong with that?" What's wrong with feeling down? Come on!!! Down is not a good feeling and I deserved to feel better! I'd been sober for two months and my reward was feeling down? Where's the happy, joyous and freedom experience I'd been reading about? I knew enough not to say all this to him, because he was clearly dangerous. But he was persistent and wouldn't let me off the hook: "What's wrong with feeling down?"

I'd try to give him a few more morsels, just to tide him over until the beginning of the meeting: "Well, when I'm feeling down, I start getting depressed." I'd give him a little more detail than that, but he was relentless. When I'd run out of breath explaining why depression wasn't a good thing to be experiencing, he'd look at me with uncomfortable kindness and ask me again, "Well, what's wrong with feeling depressed?"

This guy was a licensed psychiatrist and a surgeon, and he didn't know what was wrong with depression? It's an illness, for god's sake! People go to doctors when they are depressed and I had no business being depressed. I needed to stay sober and I wasn't going to be able to do that if I kept feeling so damned depressed! I know, I was sitting there with such a doctor and telling him about my depression certainly didn't seem to be helping. He just didn't seem to understand. Ultimately, I resorted to my own scare tactics as an attempt to get him off my frustrated back and said, "You know Earle, if I keep feeling all these feelings of saddness, anger, depression, remorse, etc. -- I'm going to start wanting to drink again!" I mistakenly thought that would shut him up and put him back in his place and far away from me.

He only smiled again and countered my evasive maneuver with, "Well, what would be wrong with that?" Earle died before the truth of his lesson really sunk down to the core of my being. It took a long time before the habit of distrusting and manipulating feelings began to dissolve and to be replaced by a general attitude of acceptance for whatever feeling I happened to be feeling at any particular time.

So as I listened to people's stories of supposed "good" things that had happened to them since getting sober, I couldn't help but think of Earle and I silently began compiling a list of the hidden blessings in my life that were once seen as bad or wrong:

my alcoholism
my feelings
my body
my past and present
death
pain
suffering
my wrongs
my mistakes
my ignorance
my confusion
my uncertainty

All blessings without exception. And when something strikes me sideways, I may not see it as blessing right away. But I am more likely as not to eventually hear Earle's voice asking, "Well, Mike, what's wrong with that?" Sure, I can fence around with him trying once again to evade the master. But I inevitably end up smiling and laughing with Earle as I let him know that there's simply nothing wrong with anything in my life. It truly is perfect just as it is. I don't need to change a single thing. Including the desire to change...

Take care!

Mike L.

A Quick Check-in

2010-04-16T21:04:00.000-07:00

It's been over a month since I've posted a blog here and now as I try to get back into the groove of writing, I'm facing some sort of writer's block as I try to dip my toe back into the water. I've got two blogs that I've been drafting but neither seems ready for publishing. One I'll probably never post as it was done more for personal chewing through of a difficult time I was having with my wife. It turned into something I've never really done: a fourth step with a fourth column.

Somehow in the writing process, I ended up understanding my need to see my part in what was going on and -- all of a sudden -- her part became irrelevant. And then everything became clear to me in terms of why I had done what I had done --- and before moving forward to make an amends with her, I spent time having some compassion/forgiveness for myself. I'm awfully hard on myself --- and it's not helpful to be unkind, even toward one's self.

I've had titles for interesting blogs float past my mind over the past couple of weeks, but I've just not had the time to sit down and write. They were great titles --- wish I could remember them.

I've been struggling to find some balance in all the various aspects of my life, both in terms of recovery and family/work. Overall, I think I'm doing well --- but the blog writing has taken a real hit in terms of consistent effort and action. Someone once told me that balance isn't a state of being, but rather, it's a brief moment in time that we pass by as we swing from one extreme to another. The swing has slowed down much in the past eight years --- but I still seem to drift back and forth. Guess it's better than the alternative!

I will commit to writing more in the next week. My wife's out of town for a couple of days beginning tomorrow, so I should be able to get something out. I tend to binge on meetings when she's away, plus have time to be with friends/sponsees and just talk about whatever. Plus my honey-do list.

Take care!

Mike L.

The Pre-Requisites of Willingness

2010-03-13T17:32:00.000-08:00

I've been going through something of writer's block recently. Felt that I had sort of said everything I had to say. That everytime I sat down to write, there was an eery feeling that I'd already told that story. I took a break I suppose so that I could come up with some new stories.

The other night the speaker asked us to talk about willingness because she was at a point in her life where she was unwilling to be willing. And that frightened her.

Whenever willingness is the topic, I always remember a woman who was new to the area and had just been asked to chair a meeting at the last moment. I was probably two years sober at the time. During her chair, she said that her favorite quote in recovery was a line that she had stolen from her sponsor in Santa Cruz. The sponsor had often said that "she got sober at the corner of Grace and Willingness." I was immediately struck at how beautiful that line was. I went up to her after the meeting and asked her to chair a meeting for me in several weeks. She was glad to. She was trying to get to as many different meetings as possible now that she was in this new area with no friends or connections.

Between that night and the day she was to chair for me, I kept going back over the line she'd stolen from her sponsor and while I really understood the beauty of that description of where her sponsor had gotten sober, I knew that I hadn't gotten sober on that same corner. Grace was right on: when I got sober, it was pure gift. I'd done nothing at all to achieve the sobriety I achieved the morning of October 20th in the year 2001. The night before, I'd taken my son to one of his 12 Step meetings (he was 15 and had 5 months and 10 days sober...) and then hid myself away in a local bar to have what became, to date, my last two drinks. Two goblet sized gin martinis. When I left the bar, I didn't feel drunk but was probably over the legal limit. I went to pickup my son after his meeting. He smelled the liquor and asked me if I'd been drinking. I lied. He let it go.

I'd wanted to tell him the truth. But had I done that, I would have had to stop drinking. Or at least go through the public motions of trying to stop drinking, while knowing in my heart of hearts that it simply wasn't possible. So I lied. We went home. Chatted about what the meeting had been like. I went in the house, told my wife that I was very tired and was going straight to bed. I was very tired. I'd been hiding my drinking for over 10 months and it was horrible. I was lonely, isolated. Controlling my drinking was very draining! Around people all day---but connecting with no one.

The following morning, I woke up at 6am with the clearest of all true thoughts: "I can't stop drinking." A thought I'd woken up to many, many times before over the previous 30 years. More and more frequently as the years and the disease progressed. And then the miracle happened with another thought, "Not being able to stop drinking is called Alcoholism--and alcoholism is a disease that I just happened to have." Within a nanosecond, a third thought followed: "That's OK -- I can do what Pat (my son) had been doing." And then I saw myself sitting in a circle of folks and when my turn came to check-in (it was one of the weekly multi-family group sessions at my son's recovery treatment center), I saw myself raise my hand and say, "My name is Mike and I'm an alcoholic." The obsession I'd been living under for years left me with that disclosure to non-existent people.

Well, that moment was certainly one of Grace. Grace was surely one of the streets which intersected my moment of recovery. But was that a moment of Willingness? Not really. It was something else and I just couldn't think of what else other than grace brought about my sobriety. What was the other street. I thought about that for several weeks and it didn't get resolved until the morning I woke up to go secretary the Sunday Step meeting at the Lafayette Hut, the meeting where the line thieving sponsee was going chair for me. That morning I realized where I got sober and I was feeling like I was going to explode inside until I could share my truth with the woman chairing for me that morning.

When she walked into the meeting, she walked over to sit in what I sometimes call the most uncomfortable chair in an AA meeting. When she sat down, I welcomed her to the Hut -- and then leaned over to tell her that for several weeks I had been trying to figure out "where" had I had gotten sober. She looked puzzled (as people often do when I'm talking to them!) and I reminded her about her favorite line and told her that while I loved the line as much as she did, I knew that that was not where I got sober. I didn't get sober at Grace and Willingness. She smiled and asked me, "Well, where did you get sober?"

I got sober at the corner of Grace and Hopelessness, about a half block down from Grace and Willingness. What happened that morning for me was a moment of grace which occurred only because I had reached a point of utter hopelessness in terms of my ability to stop drinking. What happened that morning is I gave up on "my" attempt to stop drinking. And I began a new approach at life. I began trying to stay sober that day. That is what I had seen my son do for over ten months --- and he'd done it "poorly" at first, not being able to stay clean for more than 5 to 10 days for several months. But then, something clicked for him in May 2001 --- not sure what streets intersected at his moment of clarity -- and he's been clean for almost nine years now. That morning I knew that the solution was in doing what he had been doing: going to meetings, raising my hand, steps, talking/listening with other addicts/alcoholics, getting up when we fell down, telling the truth.

So what then are the pre-requisites of Willingness? There are at least three:

First, willingness only comes into play when we are confronted by something that we really don't want to do. Willingness isn't necessary for me to eat a piece of chocolate cake! Willingness is only required when there is unwillingness.

Second, willingness presents itself only when one is experiencing a certain level of pain or suffering. Unwillingness is a pleasant place to be: pain is the only thing that pushes us out of that state of unwillingness.

Third, willingness --- at least for me --- came only when I came to believe that the Impossible was in fact Possible. That morning, I discovered that sobriety, one day at a time, was possible. No guarantees for life, but at least sobriety was possible for me that day. Tomorrow? I'd deal with that when it came. That morning, I realized that Pat had done what I had considered impossible. He'd gotten sober and his life was changing. Since then, I have seen many others who were like me: people who simply couldn't get sober. People who couldn't stop drinking. That morning, I accepted that I couldn't stop---but I could stay sober.

A moment of Hopelessness transformed by Grace into Willingness.

Take care!

Mike L.

Grieving: Part of the Healing Process

2010-02-06T07:00:00.000-08:00

A young woman with 60 days shared at a meeting yesterday that over the last weekend she and her husband had done some things together (planted a tree in the backyard, watched a football game, etc.) and that something really strange had happened to her. She paused and then looked around the room and said, "This is getting really hard! I guess I've been on some sort of pink cloud until now. This is hard!"

Anyway, during the weekend she and her husband (a non-alcoholic it seems) did some things together that in the past would have involved both of them drinking (her to excess, him not). Each time she realized that fact, she would start crying. Eventually it got so bad, that she went to her bedroom and laid down and sobbed. And sobbed. Then she went out to cuddle up next to her husband in front of the TV and she sobbed some more. He tried to comfort her. At one point, her 4 year old saw her crying and said to his Daddy, "Mommie's sad!". She'd never cried in front of her son. She cried some more.

She got up then and called her "sister in sobriety" (they both have same sponsor) and the friend listened and understood. She encouraged her friend by saying, "Just don't drink today. You just have to not drink today. This will pass...."

Then she called her sponsor and shared what had gone on that day.... The sponsor listened. At the end of the story, the sponsor explained to her that she was grieving.... Grieving! And then it all made sense to her. She was grieving the loss of being able to drink "like normal people.?

Before she had even shared what her sponsor had told her, I too had the clear thought that this woman was grieving a very deep loss. Grieving is so important in our recovery and I think most of us go through it without really knowing what's happening.

As she continue with her story, I took out a piece of paper and drew a tombstone and engraved on it the following:

R.I.P.
"Shannon-the-'nonalcoholic'-who-could-drink-like-a-normal-person"
Died: 2/__/2010
May she rest in peace!

I gave the drawing to her at the end of the meeting. And she laughed and laughed as she read it. Then she shared it with her sober sister, and they both laughed and laughed. And then I got two great hugs.

I did whisper to her later as I was leaving the meeting, that in regards to this false self (it's what people in AA are referring to--even though they don't know it!-- as the "ego") that she needs to know that this "dead ego" may not really be dead: it can wake up at anytime and start whispering, "It's ok, you have just one...." It's ok and she needed fear it's coming: if she doesn't feed it, it will go back to sleep.

Sometimes, it takes a while before they really go in peace.

Take care!

Mike L.

Powerlessness (v5.2)

2010-01-22T09:08:00.000-08:00

Powerless to stop
Even when I stopped.

Powerless to stop
Before I'd even started.

Powerless to stop
Then.

Powerless to stop
Now.

Powerlessness accepted
Freedom.

Powerlessness embraced
Strength.

Powerlessness discovered
Life!

Powerlessness forgotten:
Jails, Institutions...
DUIs, Treatment Centers.

Powerlessness:
A choice.

Recovery
or Death.

Powerlessness

2010-01-19T21:49:00.000-08:00

Powerless to stop
Even when I stopped.

Powerless to stop
Before I'd even start.

Powerless to stop
Then.

Powerless to stop
Now.

Powerlessness accepted
Freedom.

Powerlessness embraced
Strength.

Powerlessness found
Life begins.

Again.

Poetic Writing

2010-01-18T08:19:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I went to an early meeting and then met with a sponsee afterward for coffee and talk. Leaving him for home and chores, I checked my email and found one from someone in the program who I barely know. This guy knew from some of my blogs that I really like an author named David Richo --- so he thought I'd like to know that David was doing a book signing at a local bookstore that afternoon. I called the sponsee I'd just met with to let him know about the book signing because we had just been talking about some of Richo's books while we'd talked earlier that morning. Both my sponsee and I were able to go to the book signing, he with his wife. It was an amazing afternoon.

Richo's most recent book, "Being True to Life: Poetic Paths to Personal Growth" talks about how both the reading and writing of poetry can become an important part of one's spiritual work or practice. As he was talking, he mentioned that many of us have had some really bad poetry teachers in our lives and that the damage done to poetic literature has been devastating. That was the reason for his writing this book. He dedicated it to all his poetry teachers.

As he talked about the book, I remembered back to college when I was taking a poetry class that I now realize killed off in me what had been a budding love of writing poetry. This professor began the class by telling us that there was no one correct interpretation of a poem, that they were all open to a multitude of interpretations. The class grade was going to be based on one midterm exam and a final exam. None of the other work that we would turn in (mostly our interpretations of various poems) would have any impact on our grades. I really enjoyed the class and the poetry it exposed.

The midterm was one question: interpret a single poem. Several weeks later, I was devastated when I got my midterm back because on it was an "F". Apparently I had found the one incorrect interpretation of this poem. I somehow escaped the class with a C- (the final was to write a limrick and the only challenges were to not make it obscene and to avoid plagiarizing someone else's work) but yesterday I realized that after that class, I never again risked writing a poem. In fact, I don't think until recently that I ever gave a poem more than a cursory onetime reading (Richo says any poem takes several readings before the meaning can be even lightly touched). I interpreted all poems as "blah, blah, blah..." --- nothing of value.

I see now that in recent years I've slowly been recovering from this poetically damaging event back in college. Poetic recovery began shortly after I got sober, which is when I developed a weird habit of memorizing certain passages or writings that I've found to be "beautiful" or "true". By memorizing, I mean reading and reciting "beautiful" lines and paragraphs again and again and again and again....until they became song-like, musical and could be recited/sung aloud during long commutes to/from work every day... Now I realize that many of these types of passages are the essence of poetry. They are words that have somehow captured a deep truth about life and this truth has somehow struck me to my core. I told this to Richo yesterday and he told me that the word "core" means our "heart". That rung true for me.

I also shared with Richo that some months ago, I bought several more of his books---including this one on poetry. What was strange, I told him, is that while he's becoming one of my favorite writers, I simply couldn't open this one particular book. It's been sitting on my nightstand for weeks now and I couldn't get myself to open it. Poetry was of absolutely no interest to me. Yesterday, I understood why. His sub-title contained the word "poetic"! He laughed and said that when they were getting the book ready for publication, the original title had had the word "poetry" in the main title but they removed it because they were afraid that it would scare many people off! So "poetry" got relegated to sub-titled status as a mere adjective. And it still scared me off!

I also realized yesterday that I had fallen away from my routine of blogging. It's been a month since my last blog. In fact, CJ commented on my last blog yesterday and let me know that she was missing my blogs and wanted to know where I was. I was glad to be missed. [Of course, I wanted to snap back, "CJ, where have you! been! Blog yourself!!! Course, I wouldn't say something so mean and judgmental.]

I'd gotten distracted with other aspects of my life and my recovery and blogging had gotten pushed to the background. Yesterday, I realized that writing is very important to me and my recovery. I don't see blogging as poetry --- although sometimes I suppose there's "poetic" bits and pieces that accidentally get wedged in all the flow of words. I want to play more with poetry soon. Blogging comes easily to me. I suspect that poetry takes more work, more discipline. Editting. Slicing/Dicing. Listening. Watching. Being still. Struck silly.

Yuck! ;-}

OK, I'm back. Will try to be more regular with the blogging. Might share some of my poetry once I'm satisfied it's "done". Cooked to imperfection.

Take care!

Mike L.

Recovery and Relationships

2009-12-13T21:47:00.000-08:00

Without question, the most challenging arena for me in terms of living out my recovery is in the context of relationships, especially the relationship with my wife of 28+ years. In one of my regular meetings, there's a statement made in the meeting format that after the meeting "loitering is not tolerated" -- I used to find that somewhat offensive and offputting: but eventually I took it to be a clear message that this meeting room is not a home, it's a place of respit. A resting place where we recharge our batteries -- but it's temporary. It's not where we live.

Where I live is at home with my wife and that's where the rubber meets the road, as it were,in terms of me and my recovery. Recently, I've been reading another book by David Richo called "How to be an Adult in Relationships (The Five Keys to Mindful Loving)". It's a great book. It must be frustrating for my wife though, seeing me read this book and me, at least it seems to me, having so little to show for it. We are probably in the best shape we've ever been in though, so I don't want to misrepresent the quality of our relationship. It's great. But I'm always wanting it to be better... Think we both share that hope.

One thing that really hit me though yesterday is that Richo talks about how in some relationships one partner will have a basic fear of abandonment and the other partner will have a fear of engulfment. For us, my wife is the one who seems primarily experiencing a fear of abandonment over the years and I am the one who seems to have the polar opposite fear of being engulfed. Richo recommends what he calls the "Triple-A Approach to Fear: Admit, Accept and Act As If... We first need to admit that we have these particular fears and then we need to accept these fears. Lastly, he talks about acting as if.... And this paragraph hit me to my core.

"Act as if you have no fear. If you fear abandonment, risk allowing the other to stay away one minute more than you can stand. Cling one minute less than you feel you need to. If you fear engulfment, allow the other to get one inch closer than you can stand. Stay away one minute less than you feel you need to. By acting in these ways, you are playing with your pain, a healing device too often neglected by those of us who take things too seriously."

This paragraph screamed out at me with its beauty and truth. I've commited it to memory and have been reciting it again and again during my day today. I really like the idea of "playing with my pain" -- I've spent much effort in the past trying to avoid and medicate pain. It was as though there was something wrong with pain. And emotional pain, in particular, was something to be avoided at all costs. Richo has got me looking at it differently though: pain is communicating information to me and I need to listen carefully and with reverence. I needn't run from it. I can keep my eyes and all my senses wide open.

Take care while you play with your pain!

Mike L.

Opening Up to What Is...

2009-12-12T10:09:00.000-08:00

Some time ago, I began reading several books by David Richo (Shadow Dance, The Power of Coincidence and How to Be an Adult in Relationships). I've been reading each of them somewhat concurrently, bouncing back and forth between them as felt right to me. With each book, I've been making conscious decisions to open myself up to that dark side of who I am (the shadow self that I don't like acknowledging and certainly don't like accepting or, God forbid, embracing) and to the various "assisting forces" (dreams, coincidences, events, spirits and what I thought to be dead people like Earle) who are helping me be more truly who I already am.

What I'm starting to realize now is that once I made those commitments, things really begin to happen fast and that there's probably no way to put the Genie back in the bottle, even if I wanted to! There seems to be nothing that happens to me, 24x7, that isn't part of the process. A few nights ago, I was meeting with a sponsee for coffee and while we talked, I started to understand with much greater clarity the answer to a key question in my life that's been plaguing me for several years now.

What that question has to deal with is not something that I want to go into here, at least not now, but my point is that while I was talking and listening to this really great guy (who has 3x more sobriety than I do and who is a tad older than I am and who is very successful in his business life) talk about his (and coincidentally my!) problems/struggles with his wife of many years -- it became clear to me that everything that's been going on in my life in the last 8 years is part of a process that began many many years ago when I was first growing up. And that what I knew to be true for me then (that I had a special purpose in life and that that purpose involved helping others), is something that I have been moving toward step by step all these years. Most especially now.

More importantly, I started to realize that everything that has happened over the last 56 years of my life is just what needed to happen in order for me to be where I am right now. Everything. There was nothing in that path of events and people that should have been any different than it actually was. It was and is perfect. (Thank you, Earle!)

Several weeks ago, sometime after I began doing this "shadow work" I woke up one Saturday morning and realized that my wife was already up having tea and reading the paper. I gave myself permission to do what I wanted to do: go back to sleep. I was very tired. I slept. I dreamt. I awoke. I repeated that process a couple of times, slept, dreamt and awoke. The last time I did that, I awoke and as soon as I was conscious, the idea came to me that "Everything's true!". As that simple thought entered my mind, everything went White. A bright light is the only thing I can think of to describe this experience. I had this thought lingering in my consciousness "Everything's true" and in the background I'd see various things (events and people) from my past and present and as I would gaze at them I would remember that "Everything's true!" -- everything and everyone is true, complete, perfect. And everything was surrounded and immersed in this incredibly bright light.

After a few moments, the idea about Everything's True would drift and the White light would fade. And I would be aware that it was fading. I had mixed feelings about this fading away of the light: the light had actually scared or frightened me...something seemed almost "foreign" about it. Yet it also filled me with energy and peace. As it faded almost completely away, I would then remember some other event or person from my past and then the idea would come to me again that "Everything's true" and the White light would return, full force. And then it would fade. And then it would return. I don't know how long this cycle went on, maybe 15 minutes, but I eventually tired of it and decided that I should get up, go hug my wife and begin knocking off her list of Honey Dos for the weekend ahead. And so I did.

This has been an amazing couple of weeks. All because I gave myself permission to be open to what is.

Take care!

Mike L.

Empathy for Atheists

2009-12-03T17:53:00.000-08:00

Even with my newfound theism, I do want to say that since coming into AA I have developed and nourished a strong and passionate empathy for those who do not share a belief in a God, however defined.

My empathy for atheists is usually expressed by me when I talk with an professed atheist, usually after an AA meeting where one or more AA member's have shared much details about their Higher Power, including their Higher Power's name (i.e., Jesus, God, etc.) and what they believe to be the important characteristics of their Higher Power (e.g, He is male, He has a plan, He wills specific things to happen (including that some people get sober and some people do not, or when people die...). Sometimes these shares are phrased in such a way that the speaker, probably unintentionally, talks for the group rather than just for themselves. Sometimes, they state their beliefs as though all or most of us in the room share their beliefs. When that happens, I am always on the lookout for any wincing or pained looks --- or for people walking out the door (or seeming to be looking in that direction). I try to either say something a group level that gives a counterbalanced view (delicately avoiding the proscription against crosstalk...) that these sorts of issues are very personal and no one speaks for anyone but themselves on this issue.

And when I actually get to talk one on one with a professed atheist, I eventually like to ask them, "So tell me, describe for me the "God" you don't believe in? What is it that you don't believe in. What's behind the label "God" for you?" Inevitably, the God that they don't believe in is a God that I don't believe in either. If so, I smile and say then, that well, maybe I'm an atheist also because I don't believe in that God either! I don't go on to prove or argue for the God that I might happen to believe in that day (it changes frequently!). That's really none of their business and I don't need to share it with them unless they are curious or interested in talking about it.

Ultimately, in the context of recovery, I basically advocate the philosophy of an apatheist: I really don't care what another person believes and don't feel any one view or theological position is required for AA membership or sobriety. The atheist has a wide range of options for developing a sense of a higher power in their lives that does not entail a personal God: "Truth" can be a very effective Higher Power for a recovering alcoholic! The agnostic can be comfortable with a lifetime of investigation and waffling if they are so inclined and they can take pride in the fact that the Big Book named a chapter after them (We Agnostics) and that there is no chapter called "We Theists" or one called "We Atheists" or one called "We Apatheists".

To each their own. "Above all else, to thine own self be true." (Shakespeare)

Take care!

Mike L.

Hi, My Name is Mike and I'm a Theist.

2009-11-25T18:07:00.000-08:00

I have recently entered headlong into the strange world of Facebook. And I think I agree with Carl Jung: "If there is fear of falling, then the only safety is in intentionally jumping!" I've jumped into Facebook, ready or not. Here's what happened:

The other day, I received an email from a long lost friend: an ex-Jesuit priest who was my novice master when I first entered the Jesuits over 30 years ago. After I left the Jesuits almost four years later, met my future wife and then became engaged to marry her, Bob welcomed the chance to marry us. We did various things with him in the early years of our marriage, camping trips, playing stupid poker games, etc. He eventually left the priesthood, married and we lost touch soon after that. Life got in the way I suppose.

Anyway, a few days ago, he extended a "friend" request to me on Facebook and I welcomed him to my lonely Facebook page. You see, I had reluctantly created a Facebook page some months ago so that I could bond with my wife and kids, all of whom were very active and enthusiastic Facebookers. But I immediately got scared of the whole Facebook experience, locked down my site so tightly that no one in my family ever found it and I never volunteered to any of them that I had a Facebook page. Much of that fear was due to the fact that I've always kept my recovery life quite separate and apart from my other life, my life with family, friends and work. And I couldn't see how I could possibly post things on Facebook that would have any real significance without bringing "out" the important aspect of my life called "recovery."

After Bob's request and agreeing to let him be my friend, I made the mistake of telling my wife that I'd heard from Bob -- and that it had been via an request to be my Facebook friend. "You have a Facebook??" she asked and accused all at once. I tried to explain what had happened and why I really didn't want to do Facebook, but she wasn't listening. She was already pulling up Facebook on our computer and having me login to my page so that she could start helping me figure out how to invite others into my life, including her, my kids. Within in minutes, I was drowning in Facebook family and friends. And within a few days, my life as I knew it started falling to shit in a hand basket.

On Facebook, they have a thing where you enter some sort of short statement called your "Status" -- this statement is an attempt to let your friends know how you're doing at that moment in time or sharing some interesting (or not) thought. My children often post some obscure lyric from a song and everyone else is supposed to guess (we are a competitive group...trust me on that!) who wrote the song. Well, I started trying to connect with my wife and kids (and the ever growing world of extended family and friends..) by posting various status statements. Within minutes, they were making fun of me and my ways: philosophical to an extreme (I think I even quoted Cicero in one of my status statements) and serious about what I consider meaningful insights into myself and my world. It was all light-hearted ribbing and laughing...until I made the mistake of saying some things about God and my beliefs or non-beliefs.

In one status statement is said something to the effect that sometimes I consider myself a theist, sometimes an atheist, sometimes an agnostic and sometimes, in the dark corner of my soul, an apatheist: someone who really doesn't care. That's something that I had sometimes said in an AA meeting and there was a specific intent for saying that in that context: I was trying to convey, especially to the newcomer, that this was not a religious program (even though it appears that we act similar to some particular religions when we begin/end meetings with Christian prayers...) but a spiritual one. That we were encouraged to come up with our own concept of a Higher Power and that that concept was purely a personal one and not something that they needed anyone's approval or validation.

But in the contest of Facebook, this statement took on a whole different context, particularly when it was read by my wife of 28+ years. She read the comment and was deeply upset by it. She felt that I was portraying myself as being someone totally different from the person she had married 28 years ago. At one point, she told me that this was like waking up and looking across and the man in bed with her and realizing that he was a Republican! [No offense to those of you who are Republicans! She meant only offense toward me, a life long Democrat.] Someone who she had always seen as deeply spiritual and one who believed in God's existence and who thought often and deeply about theological issues.

Who then was I now if I was an Atheist, Agnostic or whatever in the hell an Apatheist was?? We got into quite an argument about this one night that ended up with her walking out of the room and sleeping in another room. I initially reacted to her reaction as though she was trying to control me (I often misinterpret her in that way!) when in fact, I was reacting to her anger in such a way that disclosed that I was really the one with the control issue: I didn't like her reaction and wanted her to stop reacting to me.

I didn't sleep well at all that night. I couldn't bring myself to apologize but I knew something was wrong. Eventually, the next morning I remember something that David Richo wrote about "If something upsets me and it keeps gnawing at me, I do not attribute my reaction only to what the person said or did. I take my reaction as a signal that something has been triggered in me. As a signal to look at myself." I then realized that I was the one with the control issue and that, in fact, it was this very control issue that I been beneath my intentional separation of my life into two parts for the last 8 years: my recovery life and the rest of my life. I never let my wife into my "recovery life" because I didn't want to deal with her reactions and feelings about whatever was entailed in that life of recovery. I didn't want to hear her opinions or feelings related to how many meetings I went to or how many sponsees I might have. I felt justified in doing this for all this time because I thought she was the controlling one. I was wrong. I was the controlling one.

As soon as I realized that, the sun came up and I went to my wife and asked her if I could give her a hug and I apologized for being an ass the night before. I explained why I had reacted so poorly and we talked about this off and on for the next couple of days.

What happened next surprised me. I went to an early morning and the topic was the 2nd step and as I was sharing I realized that my prior statements about being Theist, Atheist, Agnostic and Apatheist all rolled into one was not true. And it's never been true: I am a Theist. Plain and simple. Always have been since whenever I struggled with these issues when I was in my late teens. I have grown and matured in terms of what/who I believe God to be, but I've never had any doubt about the essential presence of some Ever Present Goodness in the world that goes beyond some moral tenant.

I was mistaken in thinking myself an Atheist. What had happened on this issue is that I had often asked the atheists that I had encountered, "Please share with me the God that you don't believe in..." When they did, I inevitably concluded that I also didn't believe in "that" God and then laughed and told them that I guess then that I too was an atheist like them because we didn't believe in the same God that didn't exist! I neglected to tell them that I actually still retained a belief in a God who did exist! Usually, I didn't think they would be all that receptive to that....

I had similar experiences with Agnostics. I've never met another Apatheist. I do sometimes talk about the option of being Apatheist in the context of recovery though as I think that's a helpful concept for those, especially newcomers, as they struggle with the God issue in AA/recovery.

OK, that's enough for tonight. Going home for family game night and some Facebooking.

Take Care!

Mike L.

Dealing with Death

2009-11-24T19:31:00.000-08:00

At last night's meeting, the chairperson talked through some grief he was feeling overwhelmed by... Apparently, his first sponsor from years back had died this week. He said that this guy had saved his ass many years ago when he was working as a counselor in the treatment facility the chairperson had gone to when he began getting sober. He paused and with tears leaking out of his eyes, shared with us that he had come to love this man and missed him greatly now.

Everyone became reverent in the presence of this gut wrenching emotional experience. When he finished telling his story, he asked us to talk about how--in sobriety--we had dealt with the death of a loved one.

I shared how I too had been helped by such a man when I got sober. It was a man that had gotten sober two days before I was born and who had died some 14 months after I had gotten sober. I spent a lot of time with this man, particularly in the last five months of his life. Regularly, for three hour periods of time in the early mornings, two to three times a week. When I was with him those mornings, we didn't talk much then even though he would wake while I was there for short periods of time. Usually, he'd ask me how I was doing, how my wife and I were doing, how my son was doing in his recovery. I'd help him pee into a bottle. I would call the nurse if he pooped. I would hold his hand when his body would some times shake with seemingly unbearable pain. Once, I thought he was going to break my hand. When that particular spell was over, I asked Earle if he was OK. He looked at me with one of his patented smiles and said, "Well, for awhile there I was in a lot of pain. But it's gone now."

I was holding his right hand the night he died. His daughter was holding the other. They were gnarly old arthritic hands. None of the fingers could straighten out. I think they were both molded into the shape of his hands grabbing onto the hands of newcomers. His hands would always drift over to the newcomer's hands: welcoming them, giving them hope that it was indeed possible to stay sober.

I wasn't scheduled to be with him that night. But through a series of mishaps and tardiness, I went over to see Earle that night because there was absolutely nothing working for me that night and I knew being with him, if only for a few minutes, would make everything right. And it was.

I often say that I have three sponsors, two of them are alive and I talk to the dead one more than the live ones. People think I'm joking. I'm not. Earle exists in some sort of virtualized form within and without me. Most of my life struggles and subsequent awakenings are influenced greatly by what comes from his virtualized presence. Suppose it may be just a memory, but it seems far more.

I then shared that I used to watch a TV show called The Twilight Zone where the stories always involved the writer taking a human fantasy/hope that we all seem to have at times which are basically rooted in the belief that "if only such and such" would happen, then everything would be right for us in our world. If only everyone were like me.... If only people would just tell the truth... If only people didn't die.... The storyline would then live out that fantasy and demonstrate the falseness of our dream. The truth was always that our world would be Hell if we got our wishes.

What would life be without death? Ultimately, I think that life would then be devoid of all meaning and of all beauty and of all love and of all true joy. There is no such thing as life without death. Thank God. Earle taught me that before, during and after his own death. I encouraged the chair not to run from this experience. To grieve. To love. To remember. To share. To cry. To laugh. Most especially, to listen within.

Take care!

Mike L.

AA Membership is Lifetime, If You Want

2009-11-19T14:35:00.000-08:00

I've been chewing over my last post about the 3rd Tradition and the fact that I haven't had a desire to stop drinking for a long time --- in fact, that desire stopped two days before my first meeting of AA. Seemingly on its own.

What I've concluded is that the desire to stop drinking is an event that happens and once it does, that person has achieved the one thing that is required for AA membership and that once this happens, that welcome is extended to them for as long as they want. Once you've walked in the doors and choose to be one of us, then that membership is, in my opinion, permanent. At least so far as you want to remain a member.

For me, that's what happened. I had a desire to stop and for a variety of reasons, I woke up one morning and realized that my inability to stop was because I was (and am) an alcoholic. Looking back, after having come into the rooms of AA, I realized fairly soon that what happened that morning wasn't that "I stopped" --- what happened, to my utter surprise (even now!), was that I stopped trying to stop (some call this "surrender") and, in effect, I stopped stopping.

I began trying to stay sober --- one day at a time. And that, amazingly, has worked for me for over 8 years.

So, in case you were wondering: I do now consider myself a legitimate member of AA. No one can take that from me, but me.

Take care!

Mike L.

Am I Still A Legitimate Member of AA?

2009-11-12T08:56:00.000-08:00

For quite a few years now I've been quietly wondering to my innermost self whether I am still a legit member of Alcoholics Anonymous. Why? Well, because of the 3rd Tradition. I know that I oftentimes hear people refer to that tradition as the one that allowed them to remain a member of AA when all else seemed to warrant excommunication or desertion. But I've been unable to honestly say that I have "a desire to stop drinking." In fact, I haven't had a real desire to stop drinking for over 8 years now. In fact, I think I lost that desire two days before I first set foot in a meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous.

Sure, prior to the morning I woke up "struck sober" on October 20, 2001 I had become resigned to a daily and hopeless desire to stop drinking. Most mornings, my first thought was "Christ! I just can't stop!" I'd almost given up trying to stop. Stopping wasn't possible. For the last 10 months of my drinking, I was trying only to drink and not get caught.

So when I began attending meetings of AA and heard mention of the 3rd Tradition -- my initial reaction was like most people: I felt welcomed and included. Finally, here was a group of people like me. People who couldn't stop drinking either.

But in time, as the fear of drinking again began to melt away as a natural consequence to my re-focusing my efforts not on "not drinking" but on "staying sober" and "learning to live sober", I gradually realized that I no longer had a "desire to stop drinking". In fact, the mere thought of "trying to stop" was a dangerous path for me. It seemed to reawaken the false belief that I could use willpower to stop and stay stopped. It wasn't any solution for me to seek a "higher power" to allow me to stop. That was equally dangerous for me because the line that separates me from "me becoming God" is a very thin one and easily crossed by me without my knowing it -- except in retrospect.

So I freely and knowingly gave up the desire to stop drinking years ago. I eventually subscribed to the "AA didn't teach me how to stop drinking, it taught me instead how to stop stopping!" school of AA thought.

Last night this all came to a head when I was at my main home group, the Wednesday night Dignitaries Sympathy men's group in Walnut Creek. At that group, we don't have a speaker. We just read How It Works and then go around the room and have people share (1) what they've done in the last week to stay sober and (2) if they are struggling with something, to share it with the group. And we permit feedback during the meeting. What happened last night while Gary was reading the introduction to the meeting, I noticed that our format says that the only requirements for attending this meeting are that we be male and that we have "a desire to stay sober."

A desire to stay sober! Not a desire to stop drinking! A desire to stay sober! I BELONG TO THIS GROUP because I HAVE A DESIRE TO STAY SOBER!

Although I have no dreams of getting AA to change it's coveted 3rd Tradition, I guess it won't hurt to make my motion here on my own recovery blog. Why don't we change the 3rd Traditon to say, "The only requirement for membership is to have a desire to stay sober." I think setting the standard for admission and membership to this even lower level (I've always appreciated AA's setting the bar for admission to a very low standard!) than the "desire to stop drinking" level. Let's bring it down one more notch!

Hi, I'm Mike and I have a desire to stay sober today.

Take care!

Mike L.

The Human Ego: Not an Original Part

2009-11-08T13:39:00.000-08:00

I was reading something yesterday in one of David Richo's books and it was really powerful. He said in effect that the human ego was not part of us humans when we were born. It's something that each of us have learned as a consequence of certain events happening or not happening in our lives.

What events cause an ego to develop? Essentially, I think he was saying that the human ego---what Chuck Chamberlin defined as "the conscious feeling of being separate from other people, other things, God and ultimately, even ourselves---comes about when we do not receive what Richo calls the "Five As" from our parents and other important influencers in our lives. The Five As are: Attention, Acceptance, Appreciation, Affection and Allowing. All of us have had experiences in our lives when we did not receive the fullness of each of these from our parental figures. The Five As all taken together, it seems to me, amount to Love. And as a result, all of us have developed an ego in response to these events where we wanted and needed love, and didn't receive as much of it as we wanted and needed. And as a result, we developed an ego to help us survive and move on....

The point made by Richo that struck me so deeply though was that the ego is a natural development of human beings. It serves a good purpose at least for some period of time. For most of us, it seems to save our lives and allows us to survive various traumas, big and small, as we grow up. As a result, Richo cautions against the tendency to want to attack and demean the human ego. The ego is not diminished by such attacks---in fact, it seems to only grow as a result of such efforts. The effective treatment for the ego is love and kindness.

I'm going to chew on this for awhile now. This approach seems right but quite contrary to much AA talk where there is much written to the effect that our ego needs to be "smashed" and all the talk about the need to rid ourselves of so-called defects of character. And even our talk in regards to the disease of alcoholism itself: treating this disease as though it's something bad, as something that's wrong with us. Something needing a cure.

There's nothing, absolutely nothing!, wrong with begin an alcoholic. At least not for me. Today. My problem wasn't that I was an alcoholic: it was that I was an alcoholic who was trying to drink like a non-alcoholic. Once I realized that my body was simply "alcoholic" in nature, permanently, and that it was possible to live sober and live fully despite that fact of being alcoholic, I experienced a freedom that's been sustained in me for the last eight years.

I still have lots of work to do, to be sure. And most of that, I suspect, has to do with learning more about this ego of mine, how it's developed over my life and how it influences how I see things today. I think I'm going to enjoy getting to know more about this inner child of mine. I think I know his voice, gentle, oftentimes afraid, wanting my attention, acceptance, appreciation, affection and, most of all, wanting to be allowed to be himself, just they way he really is.

My name is Mike and I am an alcoholic.

Take care!

Mike L.

...And then Actually Made that Amend!

2009-11-04T17:27:00.000-08:00

Not all amends can be made without causing more harm than would make the amend worthwhile or helpful. Some amends wouldn't mend anything: they would only serve to rip off a scab and reharm the other person or cause "fallout" harms on other innocent people.

In the case of the amend that I was facing (I almost wrote "confronted by" but as with most things in this recovery process, it wasn't something outside of me that was my problem: it was within me!) the other day, I ended up deciding that I could make an amend without causing more harm to my son's ex-girlfriend or to my son or to anyone else. Even me.

Contrary to the advice given me by An Irish Friend of Bill (one of my all time favorite recovery bloggers!) I decided against making any sort of humorous approach with this amends. While such an approach might work in a situation where the amend was being made by a woman to a woman, my sense (male as it is...) is that humor doesn't go in my favor when making an amends to a woman. It never has worked that well when I've tried it with my wife, the object of most of my living amends, and I suspect it wouldn't have gone with with this woman either.

My amends was done as a response to her last unanswered text to me, in which she had apologized for any confusion she might have caused through the last couple of texts between us. I'd never responded because I was just digging myself deeper and deeper with each text I made and I decided it best to just put down the shovel. But on this last Saturday, I felt that I could simply respond to that text of hers and let her know that I needed to make a really big amends to her for what I had said in my earlier text to her. I had struggled with remorse over my text for several days and it finally became clear to me that the statement I made was probably untruthful and certainly unnecessary and unkind. I finally realized too that the source of my anger and saddness (which was the source of my stupid and ill-advised statement to her) was my emotional reactions to her and my son breaking up. I hadn't dealt with these feelings head on, I'd pushed them down and negated them---and instead focused on her as the cause of my feelings.

In time, I realized that my feelings had nothing to do with her or my son or their breakup. They had to do with my own issues: anger over someone hurting my son, helplessness at being able to make my son's hurt vanish in an instant, saddness over her decision to break up not so much with my son, but with our entire family and, I suppose, with me. She'd become another daughter to me and I hurt badly as a result of her decision.

I explained that to her briefly and told her to let me know if there was anything I could do to make this right. I was going to try and avoid such statements in the future and I was going to try and be as helpful to both her and my son as they worked through this separation.

It worked I think. We've had several text and email exchanges since then and no hard feelings or tension has been evident in them. And I feel much lighter.

I love this process. Much better than a bottomless bunch of drinks!

Take care!

Mike L.

And Became Willing to Make Amends

2009-10-31T09:34:00.000-07:00

Several days ago, I really screwed up. I received two text messages from my son's recently ex-girlfriend. Over the last three years she'd become a real part of our family and her decision to break up with my son hit all of us hard. As my wife and daughters banded around my son, I suppose we all pretty much disconnected from his ex-girlfriend. When I received these text messages, something got triggered in me and I was angry. Instead of pausing when agitated, I responded with a long text message that contained one sentence that was technically not completely true. And even had it been completely true, it was not kind. And it certainly wasn't necessary.

The comment hurt her. And rather than strike back at me, she struck out at my son. That hurt my son. He and I talked the day following, and I admitted to my stupidity and told him I was sorry. I asked him what I could do to make things right and at the time we decided that anything I might do in terms of reaching out to her would only cause more harm. I tried to let it go.

Over the last couple of days I've felt a growing sense of depression and unease. The other night my wife sensed something was amiss with me and she asked me the dreaded "What's wrong?" question. It's dreaded for two reasons: (1) I usually don't know what's wrong and (2) I know by the very fact that she's asking that there is something wrong and she really really wants to know what "it" is. But the truth is, I don't know what's wrong. So I get stuck and then we go through a "dance" for some period where she tries to get me to talk about something I don't know.... For some reason, that night the dance was short and sweet. No harsh words or threats. I think we were both feeling tired. We are getting to old for that dance anymore.

The next day on the way to work I was going through my routine of reciting various things that I've memorized over the years. Many of the things that I recite have become something of an inventory process for me. One of those inventory type passages is a poem by Rumi called "The Guest House." I've included that poem in a fairly recent post, so I won't put it here again. What happened yesterday morning though was that while I was reciting this poem, I became aware of the saddness and depression that I had been feeling the last couple of days. And I decided to take Rumi's advice and "welcome them at the door laughing" -- "Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from beyond." I then repeated that same closing line again, except I changed it to "Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from within."

I then listened to my guide from within and realized that all this saddness and depression is related to the harm I had caused this young woman by judging her and questioning her decisions. In addition, these same feelings were expressions of grief over having lost someone who had come close to being another daughter to me and a member of my family. I hurt.

I knew that I was not yet done with making my amends with her. And I realized that I had become "willing" to make an amends. An 8th step process was complete. My 9th step task now is to determine, with my son's help I believe, how best I can make such an amends without causing even more harm.

The saddness and depression lifted yesterday with this coming to greater awareness of myself. What a gift this recovery process has become for me.

Take care!

Mike L.

Willingness: Not an Action

2009-10-30T16:00:00.000-07:00

Willingness is not an action. It's a state of mind that precedes certain types of actions that are called "intentional acts". Willingness does not precede some action that is accidental. Willingness can also precede non-action. For example, I can be willing to make a particular amends but choose not to make that amends because I realize that it might very well harm that person (or someone else) more than help them.

The amount of willingness that is required to perform a particular action will increase in proportion to the level of unwillingness that I have toward doing the contemplated action. This imbalance is probably the reason behind my not finishing my 4th/5th step process until I was almost two years sober. I have no regrets about that, it's just they way it happened....and it worked. This imbalance, with the amount of unwillingness being far greater than the amount of willingness, also was behind my inability to get sober back when I was able to stop drinking for significant periods of time, even though I had strong reasons to suspect that I, like my father before me, was an alcoholic. The willingness "to stop forever" was never there for me because I could hold on to the belief, supported by the facts it seemed, that I could stop...if I really wanted to. My "problem" was that I never really wanted to stop! That is, until the day came when I simply couldn't stop.

And when the day came that I really, really wanted to stop: I couldn't. My willingness was far exceeding my unwillingness I believe ---- but was keeping me stuck was the firmly held belief, also supported by the facts as I understood them, that I could not "not drink". I couldn't imagine me "not drinking" for any significant period of time. It seemed impossible to me. So, in a growing state of desperation and despair, I continued to drink for the next ten months. At the beginning, most of me wanted not to get caught drinking: I didn't want to get caught because then other people would begin expecting me to do what I knew to be impossible: stop drinking! But at then end, probably for the last month or so, I gradually began to sense a growing hope that someone would catch me in my deceit and confront me on my actions.

And then the night came when my son almost caught me: he came out of a meeting and walked over to the car where I was waiting to pick him up and take him home. He asked me if he could go get something to eat with his friends and I told him that it was OK with me.... He started to walk away and then I think he was confronted with something he didn't really want to do either: confront his father after smelling alcohol on his breath just then. I can't imagine that the prospect of confronting your dad, with only 5 months and 10 days clean time and a history of screwups, relapses and run-ins with the police: and accusing him of drinking...how that would be something done lightly. My son became willing though and his willingness saved my life.

He walked back to my car and asked if he could ask me a question. I said yes. So he asked, "Have you been drinking?". My life came to a standstill. I wanted to tell him the truth so badly! I knew that he wouldn't get mad at me, yell at me or condemn me. I'd seen him handle other situations like this with his friend's dads who'd been doing what I'd been doing (except for the not-getting caught part): he was always kind and gentle. He accepted them as fellow addicts and asked them if they wanted help. No strings attached. No expectations.

But I couldn't tell him the truth. What kept me from doing that was the idea, "if I tell him that I've been drinking, he'll then begin expecting me to stop!" ---- and I can't fucking stop!!! That's impossible. Looking back, it seemed like I had a lot of willingness/desire at that time: but it was blocked by the certainty of the desired action being impossible.

What happened then was I did lie to my son. I answered, "No, I haven't been drinking." I said it as defenselessly as I could. My lying skills have always one of my strong points: he accepted what I said without question. He just said that he had to ask because he smelled alcohol around my car and he couldn't not ask me this question. He then let it go and went to have something to eat with his friends.

Me? I sat there all alone. Alone. Isolated. In my own personal hell. I'd missed my golden opportunity to escape that hell and I was doomed. After about an hour later, my son returned and we headed home. We had our usual back and forth conversation that would follow me asking him "How did the meeting go?". Just like always, he'd tell me stories without betraying confidences. I'd listen --- feeling a growing sense of shame for my inability to face this problem with the kind of courage and persistence that my 15 year old son and these other young people were demonstrating on a daily basis. We got home and I just walked by my wife and said that I was going to bed: I was very very tired. It was a Friday and I'd had a very long week. If only she knew how true that was.

I went right to sleep and then next thing I knew it was 6am the next morning and I was completely awake. The first thought that came to my head was "I just can't stop drinking!" It was the same thought that I had been waking up to for the last ten months, if not the last 30 years. Then, a millisecond later, I had a second thought and that was, "Not being able to stop drinking is called "alcoholisim" and alcoholism is just a disease and I just happen to have it!" Wow! I just have a disease! My body is different than those who are non-alcoholics! In an instant, it seemed like my whole past life flashed before me and I understood everything that I had done over the years in terms of drinking and not being able to stop. But this morning, another though followed and replaced the "hopelessness" that I had always felt in regards to the idea of "stopping" and that idea was I could do what my son had been doing: instead of "trying to stop" I could do what he had been doing, "trying to stay sober/clean one day at a time!". In an instant my whole worldview changed.

What then happened, not that I knew it at the time, is that I became willing to try and stay sober one day at a time. I stopped trying to stop. As someone later told me, "I stopped stopping!". Willingness only became effective for me after I came to a complete state of hopelessness: another state of mind. Hopelessness is the state of mind that precedes giving up on something you want to do, but something you believe to be impossible. I reached a state of hopelessness in terms of my belief that I could continue to drink and not be an alcoholic. Once I was convinced to my core of the hopelessness of that, then all it took was a very small amount of willingness to try and stay sober one day, to try and do what my son had been doing successfully for over 5 months. With willingness, I then took my first step.

Take care!

Mike L.

Another Drinking Dream...

2009-10-23T21:30:00.000-07:00

Three days before completing my 8th year of sobriety this last Tuesday, I had a drinking dream. It was the first one in several years. During my first five years, I had one about every year. Like clockwork orange, as it were. All of the drinking dreams are consistent in several respects: the drinking dream never includes me actually drinking. They all begin with me being somewhere by myself. I look down to my right hand and there's a half empty glass of alcohol (usually Scotch...). I see it and I know immediately where the other half is: in me. As I'm realizing that I've relapsed, but before it sinks in, someone walks into the room: usually my wife, sometimes my son, sometimes my daughters. And they see me and know that I've been drinking. And then I wake up from the dream in a cold sweat, feeling as though I actually had drank. As though I actually had relapsed.

In the first four dreams, I would have a hard time convincing myself that I had not actually relapsed. Even though I would know that it was a dream and not "real" --- my emotional state was stuck in a parallel universe where I had actually relapsed and I was tremendously upset that I drank. I was ashamed. I was guilty. I was afraid. Afraid of what? Ultimately, I realized that all of these feelings were centered on the fact that I knew I was going to have to go back into the rooms of AA and raise my hand as being in my first 30 days. As being in my first meeting since my last drink.

Why was I afraid of that? I was afraid of that because I thought that people would judge me in various ways. They wouldn't do it out loud, but they would say things to themselves or maybe to others in private conversations: Ol' Mike tried to do AA "his" way -- and he drank. Maybe he'll be willing to take direction now and do it the way the book says to do it! Maybe he'll get down on his knees and do a real 3rd step! Maybe he'll join in with the prayers before and after the meeting and not separate himself from the group like he did: never praying with us.

It took five of those dreams before I realized that the fear was that everyone would think/know that Mike was full of bullshit. When I realized that, I laughed! Shit, I don't need to drink to prove that fact! So I began telling people about my drinking dreams and my related fears: and I let them know what they already knew, that I was full of bullshit, I didn't know shit, that I struggled like everyone else with figuring out how best to do this sobriety and living thing. What happened is I made peace with my drinking dreams and I stopped fearing or dreading them.

Then I didn't have another drinking dream for three years. I did have an "almost drinking" dream in those three years: you know a dream where you are contemplating taking a drink, looking at the glass, tasting it before you've actually drank? In that dream, before I did drink I became aware of the fact that I really didn't want to drink again. And I woke up. Weird.

But this last Sunday night, I actually had another drinking dream. Similar to the first five in that I wasn't aware of actually taking the first or subsequent drinks: I was only aware that I had drank. I was standing in front of a TV, holding a half empty bottle of wine in my right hand and a half empty glass of wine in my left hand---knowing where the other halves were. And then I realized that I'd drank three days before completing 8 years of sobriety. Fuck! So close! Why did I do that?!?

But unlike the other dreams, I didn't wake up at that point. What happened in this dream is I was then aware of myself being in a noon meeting up in Sacramento. I was sitting in a chair as the meeting was beginning. I saw all my close AA friends there in the room and I felt at home. And when they asked if there was anyone in their first 30 days of sobriety, I saw myself raise my hand and say, "My name is Mike and I'm an alcoholic." I was home and I was OK.

And then I woke up. Sober. Still three days from completing 8 years of sobriety. And not afraid of raising my hand if I ever were to drink and make it back into the rooms of AA. I've never really feared taking another drink: I've only feared that I would drink and then be too proud/stubborn/ashamed/fearful to come back into the rooms of AA and tell the truth. My name is Mike. And I am an alcoholic.

I am tremendously grateful this night for all those who I have seen come back into these rooms after having relapsed. They've helped me understand that we always welcome back those who've fallen down and that we don't shoot our wounded.

Take care!

Mike L.

The Amends Process: Consequences, Not Promises

2009-10-16T09:21:00.000-07:00

I'm pretty sure I've written this before, but I'll repeat just for clarity: I don't like calling The Promises "The Promises". Makes it sounds like God is a arcade dealer who will hand me a prize if I knock over all the bowling pins. So I prefer calling them "The Consequences." These sorts of things seem to happen when you go through this process, not just the 9th step itself, but all of the steps preceeding and following the 9th step. They are quite natural consequences to the process: assuming we are painstaking (pains taking, not pains avoiding) in the process. I realized that ever more powerfully today as I've been able to be available to my son recently as he's going through a very rough spot in his life. And that's a consequence. Not a promise.

To place the recent events in context: when I got sober almost 8 years ago, I had gotten to the point where I was truly disconnected from every human being who meant something to me in my life, especially my wife of 20 years and my three children, ages 14, 16 and 19. True, we were still technically a "family" -- I was married and I was a father -- but it seemed to be more of a technical qualification than one borne out by having actual and meaningful relationships with any one of those people. Looking back with sober eyes, I see that I really wasn't there for them because I'd found another solution that replaced the need for other people: alcohol. When I woke up sober on 10/21/01, the obsession left me and I accepted that I had a disease and that I needed to do what my son had done in order to deal with this disease and get my life back. And I had no idea what that would entail or how long it would take. I just had an inkling that it would work based on what had happened with my son: he was 5 months and 10 days clean when I woke up sober.

Contrary to contemporary AA wisdom, I very quickly began working on making my amends with my family, especially my wife.   Contemporary AA wisdom seems to stress doing the steps "in order" --- but that's not really doing it by the book you see. Check out the 12x12, the chapter on the 9th step, and you'll discover that it acknowledges and even tacitly encourages the newcomer to begin the amends process early on in their recovery---true, there are some well chosen caveats to that effort to keep these amends efforts from causing additional injury/harm to that which we've already caused in the past. But it seems to say that this need to try and repair or heal some of the damage that we've done in our relationships with others is a normal human need and that we needn't avoid doing what we can toward reconciliation even though we may not have even contemplated doing some of the earlier steps.

Two of these early efforts at mending involved my using the words, "I'm sorry...." and looking back, I think those were the only amends I ever made which included the phrase, "I'm sorry...".   In my first couple of months, there were several discussions with my wife where I would attempt to repair the damage of my actions and words with "I'm sorry..." and I truly meant that when I said it --- but it never seemed to have any positive impact on my wife. It did have negative impacts in that much of what I was saying "sorry" for were things that hurt her deeply and challenged her capacity to trust, to forgive, to tolerate, to understand or to have compassion toward... me.

The other "I'm sorry" occurred around Christmas time, two months sober. My oldest daughter had returned home from a year abroad studying. Being away in Ireland, she'd missed being here when her younger brother had gotten clean and sober. And she'd missed the last ten months of my drinking in secret and the last two months of my sobriety. She returned home with a huge bag of resentment slung invisibly over her shoulder: my son had, in her view, destroyed her childhood; her father had, in her view, never really been there for her.

One afternoon, my wife, daughter and I were sitting in the living room. I was minding my own business, as I recall, probably reading a book. They were chatting back and forth, watching TV. Eventually their "chat" turned into a full fledged argument and at some point, my daughter said something extremely rude and somewhat vulgar to her month. I stupidly stepped in to the fray and told my daughter, "Katie, you can't talk to your mother like that!". She looked directly at me and snapped, "We weren't talking to you." and she paused as her resentments surfaced from the dark deep hole within and then she added, "And you never have been there for me. Ever." I don't remember the context of the whole discussion/argument or why that last comment was relevant to what was going on, but regardless, they struck me to my core. And I started crying.   All I had every really wanted to be was a good father. And it was clear as mud that I'd failed miserably in doing that.

My wife then came to my defense and jumped down Katie's throat, disputing the truth of Katie's hate-filled words to her father. "That's not true! Your dad has always been there for you. He coached your basketball team, he's been to all of your plays, he's worked hard to provide home and shelter to you!" I interrupted her though and held up my hand, "Nancy, stop. Katie's right. I haven't really been there for her in many many ways during her life. I wasn't there for her emotionally because I was so wrapped up in my own problems that I didn't let anyone close to me and I couldn't get close to anyone, including all of you." I was crying through all of that. Barely able to talk. At the end, I just looked at Katie and told her that I was sorry for not being there for her when she was growing up. And that I was trying to deal with my problems, not just the drinking, but the living problems. I was trying.   Katie didn't really say anything, but the moment was over. I'd begun the amends process with my oldest daughter.

That process took a long time. Years. It didn't involve any more "I'm sorry" statements from me. It did involve my being there for my daughter. Most recently, I was there for her when she got married. I stayed out of most of the planning details (I'm not stupid!) but I did everything I was asked to do, without complaint. Willingly. Excitedly. Gratefully. I was available to her and her fiance when they struggled with the inevitable ups and downs of relationship and growing up. I shared my experience and my hope. Our house gradually became a home again. Arguments and blowups gradually faded away; laughter, joking and compassion returned. She asked me to dance with her at her wedding and asked me to protect her from anyone else from dancing with her (other than her husband) -- she hates dancing as much as her father! -- and I was there with her on the dance floor. Being dad. When we were done, my son and wife came dancing up next to us. Nancy asked Katie if she wanted to switch partners and she said OK. I then moved over to dance with my son, my wife awkwardly and laughing from her deepest self, began dancing with her daughter. Being mom.   Being family. Again.

As the wedding reception was coming to a close, I saw my youngest daughter dancing, glowing with what can only be described as pure joy and happiness. Rachel had lived through my son and my "dark years" and had survived and flourished.   She has a compassion and kindness and sensitivity that exceeds that of any saint that I've ever read about---and none of that would have been there were it not for both the "dark years" and the recovery accomplished by my son and me. And so, I got up and went on to the dreaded dance floor one more time: and danced. I even did my best at doing my daughter's "signature move" -- which is indescribable in written word and barely capturable on camera. Someone did try their best though and that blurry image of me and Rae, still resides on my daughter's cell phone and shared with anyone and everyone as one of the most glorious moments in my life.

These consequences are truly beyond my wildest imagination or hope. There is no justice in them. That's why when someone asks me "how's life treating you?" my response is always: "Unfairly! If it were treating me fairly, I'd be dead."   I think I'm ready for November to come now. I'm ready for Gratitude.

Take care!

Mike L.

Does a Relapse Always Require a 1st Step Redo?

2009-10-12T21:21:00.000-07:00

I've recently been working with a couple of guys who've been struggling with relapse and it's gotten me to rethink the issue of the necessity of reworking a 1st step after a relapse. While I think there's much wisdom behind the conventional wisdom suggesting that a person take a harder look at the 1st Step after a relapse, assuming they'd taken a gander at it before the relapse, I wonder if it's not possible that some people get stuck in the 1st Step and fail to stay sober because of their not moving forward to the 2nd Step.

In both cases that I'm dealing with, I believe both men have a good understanding of the basic tenets of the 1st Step, but for some reason they've both had problems translating that mental understanding into their heart of hearts. Or maybe it's something as trivial as having the -ISM in alcoholism: incredibly short-term memory. Regardless, I'm thinking that either or both of these guys might want to move on to the 2nd step and begin asking for help from something or someone greater than they are, as well as begin considering what alcoholic insanity is for them.

For me, it was helpful early on to begin asking others for help. It seemed to happen quite naturally for me as soon as I walked into my first meeting. I had a sense, I suppose from watching my son get clean as a result of going into these 12 step rooms, that I would find help within these rooms myself...if only I would ask. If only I would accept the help so frequently offered to me. For me, the 2nd step didn't really need to get to the thornier question of whether there was a God or not, or if there was a God, what that God was/wasn't like. For me, the powerlessness found and accepted in the 1st step only called for me to accept help from all sorts of sources outside and even within myself.

The 2nd step has become much more one where I have come to understand the insanity of much of my life, both drinking and non-drinking. The insanity that I have discovered in the 2nd step has to do with an awareness, gradual to be sure, that I spend much energy trying to be someone I'm not. In terms of my drinking career, much energy was spent over 30 years or so trying not to be an alcoholic "like my father" --- well, trying that AND trying to drink "like" a non-alcoholic. That was my alcoholic insanity.

The 2nd step has given me much freedom in my life: freedom to be who I am. Who "that" is is always going to be somewhat mysterious and unknown, but I have developed a greater comfort in the knowledge that I am perfectly OK who I am, even if I'm not all that sure who that is. It's beyond a simple "I'm OK, You're OK" --- much more to the truth of the matter, it's a "I'm not OK, You're not OK and THAT's OK!"

I know that all have their own path and I'm not one to know what another person's path is or will be. I will raise this issue with these guys though and let them chew on it for awhile. A 1st step is never really something that's completed and done with, so if they want, they can continue being with the 1st step as they continue moving on through the next steps....whether that be 2 or 3 or 10, 11 or 12. I'm not a big stickler on doing the steps in order to be honest.... Whatever will work, I'm for.

Take care!

Mike L.

Are There Really Defects of Character?

2009-10-11T13:01:00.000-07:00

I've always had somewhat of a problem with the concept of "defects of character" which is something I'd never heard of until getting sober almost 8 years ago. My problem with this concept is probably due to how "defects" were handled in my law school days. I suppose I still analyze "character defects" with lawyer-like eyes. As an aside: I decided shortly before completing law school that I didn't want to become a lawyer: if I were to do that, I'd surely become an alcoholic!! Anyway, I still think a little lawyerly (in no small part because I currently work for lawyers) to my wife's chagrine.
Anyway, here's how my "anal"yzing (thank you, wife) goes: When Ford built the infamous Pinto and the Pinto was later determined to have a defective gas tank, Ford became liable for such manufacturer's defects. Builders of products are expected to do their work with a level of care sufficient to protect the public.

If then, "defects of character" are like manufacturing defects, I then went on to wonder then if the creator/manufacturer of us humans should be subject to the same expectation and liability that we hold to other manufacturers like Ford, Chrysler, etc.? If indeed we are capable of having so-called defects of character, can't we legitimately blame our creator? Can we sue God?

A silly line of logic/reasoning, I know. Regardless, I've always been more ta little hesitant to buy-in to the popular AA rhetoric about the root of our drinking problem being some sort of defect of character (e.g., selfishness and/or self-centeredness). Nor do I buy the idea that somehow, if we're going to be able to stay sober, we're going to have to get rid of such defects of character and thereby reach some state of "happy-joy-freedom-ness." Aren't these the character flaws the very targets of the 6th and 7th Steps, if not all of the steps? No, not for me.

I've been convinced since very early in my own recovery that the root of my so-called drinking problem is physiological in nature. My body processes alcohol and other drugs differently than those who are not alcoholics. That progressive drinking problem sure did impact my physical, emotional, social and spiritual development or maturity; but, any immaturity in my physical, emotional, social and/or spiritual self is/was not the cause of my alcoholism. I personally don't believe that the root of my problem is spiritual, emotional or social.

How then did I work a 6th step? It was pounded into my head by my sponsors that "I was perfect, just the way I was and that I didn't need to change anything." The solution to the problem of alcoholism was not to stop being an alcoholic or having God remove my alcoholism. The solution was waking up to the fact that I was an alcoholic and accepting that truth at my innermost core. The alcoholism wasn't taken away, it's still here, alive and well. What's changed is something in me: in this recovery process, I'm understanding more the truth about who I am, why I've done what I've done in the past and what I can do to do better in the future.

In the first step, I came to a deep acceptance of who I am as alcoholic and that's becoming ever more clear to me as I continue down this path. In the second step, I came to understand that there was a path before me which would allow me to be the best Mike that I can be and that I don't need alcohol or other outside substances in order to be OK with myself. In the third step, I submitted my resignation as God and Controller of My Universe and began a process of letting go of my choke hold on life as it is.

In the fourth step, I took the time to reminisce about the past through the eyes of understanding and list out all those events of my life for which I still held a strong sense of shame or guilt. Guilt for the wrongs I'd done; Shame for who I was. The fifth step kept me from getting mired in this remembrance of the past and helped me achieve a sense of freedom and lightness by the mere sharing of these secrets with others. I discovered my humanness. That I was a human BEing, not a human WASing.

In the sixth step, what then was I entirely ready to have taken away? Well, first of all, I don't believe that anything was taken away by someone external to me, God or anyone else. What I experienced was that I came to a point when I realized that the only thing holding on to my past was me and that this behavior was causing me needless pain and keeping me from being the best Mike that I can be. When I realize that (this is an ongoing process for me...) truth in terms of any one particular "defect" or "flaw", I let go and move on. The defect or flaw has served its purpose and I can let it die a natural death. What died in my first step was not the disease (or defect/flaw) of alcoholism, but the false idea that being alcoholic was wrong or was my fault. It was neither wrong or my fault. It just was the way I was, the way I still am. Accepting that truth didn't make the disease go away, it allowed me to be perfectly at peace with this aspect of who Mike is.

The same happens with other aspects of who I am, what I suppose people are referring to when they talk about "defects of character." I suppose I don't like the phrase "defects of character" because it seems to convey that there's something wrong with me. And the only thing wrong with me is the fact that I haven't yet discovered the truth about me in terms of any particular "defect" or incompleteness about me. Once I discover that truth, what was once a "defect" or flaw, becomes awareness and truth. It becomes perfectly ok. Defects of character are like coins, they all have two sides as it were: a positive and a negative side. We tend to be more aware of the negative side, because that's the easiest for us to see and the easiest for others to see AND point out to us!

If I were to sue God in court for any sort of claim that this creation called Mike was defective in any way, I think that God's response to the judge would simply be that "I'm not done with Mike yet!" I am not a manufactured being, I'm a being in the process of creation. God's not done with me yet. My suit would be thrown out as being premature. As things stand now, my sponsors were right (again!) --- I'm perfect just the way I am, right now and right here. And I'm not done becoming yet!

I like what David Richo said in Shadow Dance, "An acorn is not a defect, only a not-yet!"

Take care!

Mike L.

Good and Wicked

2009-10-08T20:29:00.000-07:00

Since I've been doing this "shadow work" all sorts of strange things have been happening to me.

Vivid dreams. Waking up from one such dream Saturday morning--a dream which ended with the thought, "Everything's true!" --waking up fully conscious and awake and feeling as though I was surrounded in white light, within and without. The light would begin to fade, but then when I would focus back on the thought "Everything's true!" and apply that to some person or event or circumstance: the light would return. A deep sense that everything was "just perfect the way it was" -- including me. It seemed to be with me on and off the remainder of that day. Now when I write about it, it doesn't seem real or powerful anymore.

Driving around for several days and noticing everytime I accelerated or slowed down that something would roll forward or backward in the side pocket of the passenger door of my car. Not doing anything about it for several days, just noticing the sound, being a little annoyed about it but not annoyed enough to reach over and find out what it was or to secure it. Then one day on the way to work, I heard the noise one more time and I looked over toward the noise and noticed that it was being caused by a loose CD in the side pocket. I couldn't tell which CD it was because it the label of the CD was facing away from me. I then reached over to grab it and looked at it and it was the soundtrack to the musical play, "Wicked".

While I love this musical and have seen it on stage multiple times, I don't think I ever heard the words so vividly as I did that morning when I decided to forgo my usual recitation of various "stuff" on my way to work and to listen to this CD one more time. Within moments, I realized that this musical captured or synthesized all the shadow work I had done to date and brought it to a new level or depth. I was fixated on the musical the entire commute to Sacramento and before I knew it I was at work. Every word and lyric resonated with me and what has been going on in the last several weeks.

Wicked, if you don't know, is the prequel to the Wizard of Oz: where the Wizard of Oz begins, the story of Wicked begins and ends.

The Wizard of Oz begins with the tornado dumping (albeit in a dream...) Dorothy and her house on to and killing the so-called Wicked Witch of the West. Dorothy is then welcomed to Oz by the so-called Good Witch of the North, Glenda) and pointed down the Yellow Brick Road toward Oz and the so-called Wonderful Wizard.

Wicked begins with that same tragic ending to this supposed wicked witch, Elfaba, and the same seemingly kind act of the goodly Glenda.... As all the munchkins were celebrating the death of the Wicked Witch, one of them asked the Good Witch Glenda, "Didn't you know her?". Didn't Glenda know the Wicked Witch?

Glenda then becomes the storyteller and rewinds back in time to when Elfaba and Glenda (then Galinda) met as roommates in college. Without going into the story more, let me just say that when I listened to the musical again the other morning, I was transfixed by the "ultimate truth" of this fanciful story and how it enlightened my own journey seeking "to become" good. For years, seeing that "good" as something exterior, to be learned and/or faked. Good being a state which others determined and defined. Good being out of my reach. Leaving me isolated and alone.

I listened to the CD multiple times in the last week and I can only say that I've come to understand this as a perfect metaphor for my own journey to this point, that I am Good, that I am Wicked...that I am "me" and that I am Unlimited. I must admit though, that much of the week was spent yelling "Liar!" to much of what Glenda and others were saying about what it means to be "good" or "wicked". They never listened, not even once. But, gradually, I have begun to listen...

Take care!

Mike L.

A Different Perspective on Turning Things Over

2009-10-02T15:22:00.000-07:00

Until recently, when I heard other members talk about the concept of turning things over I'd always interpreted them to be saying that they were giving something (i.e., some problem) over to their Higher Power, you know, God. This morning as I was driving to work and beginning to go through my various prayers and other recitations, I discovered another way at seeing this turning over process.

I was reciting a poem by Rumi called "The Guest House" -- a really beautiful poem that I found in one of Jack Kornfield's books several years ago. I have recited this poem to myself many many times over the last two years, but only this morning did I see it differently. I saw it as a most insightful, beautiful and powerful description of what I've been doing recently in terms of "shadow work."

“The Guest House” by Rumi

This being human is a guest house,
every morning, a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness:
some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all,
even if they are a crowd of sorrows
who violently sweep your house empty of all its furniture.
Still treat each guest honorably;
they may be clearing you out for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice:
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.
This poem seems to capture the essence of shadow work: The Guest House is my highest Self and these guests are not so much outsiders coming in, but insiders coming out into the open as unexpected visitors. My past (and present...) strategy of avoiding and destroying these unwanted visitors was/is the very building process of my Shadow self. This new strategy of "welcome" toward Shadow self will, so my little voice tells me and which I believe, transform this shack of a self into a home, filled with light and shadows, laughter and tears, and room for all.

The only change I am going to make to this poem now (which will now make this "my poem") is the last word. My new ending will be "Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent as a guide from within."

How does this relate to the concept of turning over? Well, once I'd meditated on this poem in the light of my shadow work, I remembered this concept of turning over and as I was mulling it over I remember my father teaching me about a gardening technique called "turning over": at a certain time of year (I think it was this time of year if I'm not mistaken..) after the plants had finished producing all their flowers and/or fruit, it was important to "turn over" the ground of the garden. This turning over process involved taking a shovel or pitch fork and digging up the earth and turning it over so that the bottom most soil was now on top and the soil that was on top was now on the bottom. Once this was done, the remaining work would be done by Nature: the dry leaves and depleted soil would now be underneath the surface and there in the dark (shadow) the dead leaves would be transformed into new and rich soil. And there would come a time, in it's proper season, for the turning over process to be repeated. Again. And Again. And Again.

And this is how I'm feeling now with this new Shadow work adventure. It's a turning over process within me. There's nothing really to be afraid of. I just need to turn the soil. Nature will do all of the real work, the real healing.

Take care!

Mike L.

Discovering and Embracing Our Shadow Self

2009-09-27T16:12:00.000-07:00

For the first couple of years of his sobriety, my son did nothing (so I thought) except sleep and eat. Well, that and go to 10-14 meetings a week. I'd come home from work and ask him what he'd done that day and he would typically answer me with "I did some writing (or painting) and some reading." I would then bite my tongue to the point of bleeding and walk away to calm down: I knew that anything I might say to him would be angry and ineffective. At least, that's my self-serving memory of how it went: I think Pat probably has a different memory. ;-}

Then, I think when he was about 3 years clean, he called me at work to let me know that his book was going to be published by Lulu Press (a self-publishing publisher)! I was flabbergasted--at a complete loss for words. His book was very well done, albeit a quite dark autobiography of his short but scary life before and after sobriety. Shortly after that, I told my son that I was very proud of him and his accomplishment: in fact, I was quite jealous. I'd always wanted to write a book myself and wish that I'd had half the dedication and commitment to that endeavor as shown by him.

That next Christmas, my son gave me a beautiful leather bound journal. He told me that it was for my book. I was blown away. I almost burst into tears.  All that said, for the past 5 years, that beautiful leather bound journal has been sitting untouched and unbothered at the bottom of my book pile on my bedside nightstand. What happened was that instead of writing in that journal, I began this recovery blog in December 2007. The blog seemed better suited to me at the time: I could access it from almost anywhere and I can write faster and way more legibly using a computer keyboard than with pen and paper. My handwriting includes a form of encryption exceeding many DOD standards.

This weekend though, I finally found a reason to begin using the journal: last week my wife gave me several books that she purchased for me while she was on a retreat. One of the books was authored by a favorite author of mine, David Richo. He wrote a book called "Everyday Commitments" that I've used regularly over the past 2 years for daily meditations.   My wife didn't even know he was a favorite of mine though, she just saw several books, including two by Richo, and knew that I would love them. She's amazing that way. And I'm horrible that way. Oh, well.

Anyway, the book of Richo's that I'm beginning to read now is called "Shadow Dance" and in it he provides help in learning how to discover and embrace one's personal "shadow self" (sometimes referred to as our "dark side" -- that part of who we are which is oftentimes hidden deep down and denied or rejected).

[An interesting aside: Richo also makes a very interesting comment early on in his book, he says that "if you're an alcoholic, you might want to consider going to Alcoholics Anonymous. There you will learn about the twelves steps of recovery and most of these steps are really nothing more than shadow work..." (or words to that effect)]

After reading only a few pages of this book, I knew that it was the perfect gift for me right now and I knew that I had the perfect tool for keeping track of all this Shadow work: my journal!

So, I grabbed my Journal and opened it up for the first time. As suggested by Richo, I wrote a statement on the first page which states that I am choosing to become willing and open to learn more about my shadow self and that I was dedicating these pages toward that effort and adventure. I then began with one of the first exercises which was to list the most negative traits I saw in people within various areas of my life: my family, my profession, my religion (here I used AA). The reason behind this exercise is that we can oftentimes discover a great deal about our own shadow self by identifying the negative traits of people we really don't like! Once I completed this list of negative traits, Richo then asked me to go down that list and start trying to identify how these very traits were actually a real part of my own self. Much surprised, I discovered that he was right!!

I then took a nap (this Shadow work is exhausting work!), but before I drifted off to sleep, I gave myself permission to let my Shadow speak to me through the use of dreams (also a suggestion by Richo). Amazingly, I had this dream in which I saw these huge concrete slabs laying on the side of a hill --- looked like they were the rubble of some deconstructed highway or building. In the dream, I realized that these concreate blocks were part of who I was and that they constituted part of my Shadow self. I then began staring at these blocks, wishing and hopeing that they would disappear, that they would just blow up into nothingness. But then, I realized that that was not the right strategy for Shadow self: rather than blow them up and make them go away (which is why they make up my Shadow in the first place! I don't want or like these aspects of who I am!) --- I need to simply be aware of them, accept them, embrace them. There's nothing wrong with concrete blocks, there's nothing wrong with these shadows, these negative and unwanted traits of mine. They are perfectly OK.

I woke up completely rested and jotted down what I remembered from this dream into my journal.

Last night, I had many more dreams (I normally don't remember dreams...) and I'm not going to go into them here as this is not the place for that. In fact, I think I may create a new secure blogsite just for me to supplement my Shadow journal. Only I will be able to access this site: it too will be dedicated to furthering my Shadow work. I am really excited about beginning this work. My recovery is taking a new and deeper focus.

Take care!

Mike L.

p.s. Son update: he now has two jobs, lives on his own, is completely and financially independent, has great friends and support group, is basically happy and 8+ years clean. What was I worried about?

What's so Good about Hope; What's so Bad about Hopelessness?

2009-09-23T21:27:00.000-07:00

In two different meetings this week, the chairperson has come up with the topic of "Hope" and while I've enjoyed hearing everyone's shares about how much hope they've come to have in their lives since getting sober, I was reminded by an article I read once written by Thich Nat Hahn, the Buddhist monk from Vietnam. It was called, "The Danger of Hope" or something along those lines.

His main point in the article while there's much good to be said about "hope" -- there's a somewhat hidden danger in placing too much stock in hope. The danger, according to this wonderful Buddhist monk, comes about when one's hope is based on a belief that there is something unacceptable about the present moment or our present condition or circumstance. Thich Nat Hahn would have loved my grandsponsor Earle (and vice versa) because Earle was always saying that "everything is just perfect, just the way it is" -- and, as was often the case, Earle was talking more about "emotional" conditions and reality than he was about anything else.

To be honest, I thought Earle was off his rocker when he would chant this philosphy of his to me in his persistent manner. He'd sit next to me (or, more often, I would sit next to him) and ask me how things were going. At first, I'd lie by answering "Fine..." -- but he would smile and look deeper into my eyes and chuckle/ask "You wouldn't lie to an old man like me, would you?". Caught again, I'd laugh, "Well, I guess I would!". But he wouldn't let me off the hook, he'd follow up and repeat the initial question: "Really, how are things going? How do you feel?" And then the dance would begin, I would give him a high level view of what I was feeling by saying, "Oh, I guess I'm feeling a little tired or worn out...." And then he would answer that answer with, "And what's wrong with that?" Now, I hadn't really said there was anything wrong with that, but there was I suppose and that's why I had so wisely answered his initial question with "Fine" and why I really wanted the meeting to start soon!

But I'd made the mistake of getting there early and it would have been rude of me to get up and find a less annoying person to sit next to... So I answered him with a little less high level perspective on what was going on inside of me and I'd disclose that "Well, when I get like this, I start to feel kinda depressed." He'd look at me like he was really listening but the truth would come out when he'd ask me again, as though time was going in reverse, "And what's wrong with that?" And that's how the dance would go, back and forth, me getting a little deeper and closer to the real truth of the matter, him remaining in the comfort of his mantra of "Well, what's wrong with that?". It could go on forever it seemed, so ultimately, I'd want to skip all the preliminarys and jump to the heart of the matter in terms of what I was feeling and why, goddammit, these feelings were so goddammed wrong: "Earle, if I keep feeling this saddness or anger, I'm going to start wanting to drink again!"

He'd laugh deeply and kindly, then pause, and then ask with all sincereity: "Well, Mike, what's wrong with that?" I didn't have the heart or the time to follow that up with my ace in the hole, "Well, Earle, if I keep feeling like this, I might very well get to the point where I actually do drink! Take that!"

Now, almost 8 years after getting sober and 7 years after Earle's death, I still feel like I'm just starting to assimilate this truth about hope and hopelessness. And just as there can be a danger in assuming "hope" is all good, there's an equal danger, it seems to me, in portraying "hopelessness" as all bad.

When I hear people talking about hopelessness, oftentimes when they are referring to the hours, days and weeks before they got sober, they seem to portray this hopelessness as this horrible state of being that made even the horrible thought of life with alcohol as more attractive than the hell they were experiencing after alcohol seemed to stop working for them. While that's true of course, Earle used to talk about how much he cherished those moments of despair and hopelessness in his life---particularly after he got sober!---because were it not for the fact of these moments (short- or long-termed) of despair and hopelessness, we would have never had the following experiences of enlightenment, of waking up! He even wrote an article for the AA Grapevine called, Thank God for Despair along these same lines. What he would do during those moments of despair, would be to remind himself that in every prior experience of despair, there was always an end to the despair (eventually) and that following the despair (always) came a moment of enlightenment. A moment where things made sense. A moment of clarity. An "aha!" moment.

I try, as best I can to remember these strange truths about both hope and hopelessness. Nothing intrinsically good or bad about either one of them. Hope seems healthy and beneficial when it's for something that's possible and loving. Hope seems unhealthy and harmful, for me and others, when it's for something that's not possible (e.g., an alcoholic like me trying to be a non-alcoholic) or harmful for me or others. Hopelessness, on the otherhand, seems bad when I feel unable to do/be someone I am not. And seems good when I let go of trying to be someone I'm not.

Take care!

Mike L.

Hints of Second Step Insanity Found in the First Step...

2009-09-12T16:20:00.000-07:00

In the Big Book, it begins talking about the second step of recovery in Chapter 4, We Agnostics and finishes just after the preamble of Chapter 5 ("How It Works") -- you know, that part of Chapter 5 that we read at many meetings. Well, just after that section, there's a statement, "Being convinced, we were now at Step Three." Well, if we're at Step 3 at that point in the book, then we must have just finished Step 2.

But even before We Agnostics, I just noticed that there's some great insight into the concept of alcoholic insanity contained in More About Alcoholism, especially that first page which I call the long version of the 1st Step. I didn't really notice it before until I began finishing up working through Step 1 with several guys and I was going over that long version of the 1st Step again. I simply can't get enough of this first step.

What I noticed yesterday was that there are several references to insanity on p.30:

"No person likes to think they are bodily or mentally different from their fellows." Here Bill is laying the groundwork for his belief that there was a mental aspect of this disease and that the solution is going to have to do something in that regard if we are going to get better.

"...our drinking careers have characterized by constant vain attempts to prove we could drink like other people." The constant vain attempt to be someone that we aren't (i.e., non-alcoholics) is, I believe, alcoholic insanity. It's a layman's attempt to describe our experience as alcoholics and I can't think of a better way to describe my own experience for over 30 years of my life.... In fact, I still see traces of this insanity in my present sober life. And these traces of insanity lead to similarly "vain" attempts to be someone I'm not.

"The idea that some how, some day, he could control and enjoy his drinking is the great obsession of every abnormal drinker." Again, this "idea" is insane because it's based on the desire to be "who we want to be rather than who we really are". That's insane.

"The persistence of this illusion is astonishing. Many pursue it into the gates of insanity or death." Need I say more?

"The delusion that we are like other people, or presently may be, has to be smashed." Our insanity then, as it pertains to our alcoholism, is holding the false idea that we are different than we really are and ignoring all the facts to the contrary. While it's not an immoral or silly desire not to be an alcoholic, just as it's not crazy to want to avoid having cancer or a heart attack. What's crazy though, is once one "is" an alcoholic, trying to be something or someone who is not alcoholic.

My problem was not that I was an alcoholic, my problem was that I was an alcoholic trying to act, to feel and to drink "like" a non-alcoholic. That was my problem.

The 2nd Step, again: for me!, has nothing much to do with God or a higher power. It has to do with becoming aware of who I am as an alcoholic and that there's nothing wrong with that fact. For me, the higher power referred to in this step is "Truth".

Take care!

Mike L.

The Three Ps of Alcoholism: My Answer

2009-09-03T15:00:00.000-07:00

Several people tried their best, but no one was able to come up with my answers to this riddle....except me. Funny how your own riddles are easiest to solve! Anyway, without further ado, here are my answers to the question/riddle in regards to the Three Ps of Alcoholism and how all of them end up being summarized by the one word, Powerlessness:

The disease of alcoholism, as described in the long version of the first step (p.30 of the Big Book), is:

1. Physical or Physiological in nature: "Most of us were unwilling to admit that we were real alcoholics. No person likes to think they are bodily or mentally different from their fellows." One of the most important aspects of this disease to me was that it was physiological in nature. My disease was not a moral failure on my part. My past actions in relation to alcohol weren't due to a weakness of moral fiber or willpower: everything became clear to me when I woke up and realized that my body processed alcohol differently than those who were not alcoholics.   Ahhh, that's why I did that and felt that.... When it says here that "no personal likes to think that they are bodily (physically) or mentally (here you may think this is not physical, but I'd challenge you to think about what organ in the body does all the mental stuff (the brain) and that the brain is physical!) different from their fellows." --- I take that to mean that we didn't like to think that we alcoholics were physically different from our non-alcoholic fellows: but too bad!!! We are different! And that's ok.

2. Permanent, not temporary: "We alcoholics are men and women who have lost the ability to control our drinking. We know no real alcoholic ever recovers control. All of us felt at times that we were regaining control. But such intervals, usually brief, were inevitably followed by still less control which led in time to pitiful and incomprehensible demoralization." When I was younger, I learned somewhere that alcoholism was a disease but (and I didn't realize this until after I was sober...) somehow I thought that this disease was something more akin to a bout with the flu. It would come and go. In this framework, I was able to think that I had a few "alcoholic incidents" over my first 30 years of drinking but that I was always able to recover from those drunken and shame-filled incidents with a new and powerful resolve "never to do that again" -- and I wouldn't! I would never again drink 151 rum! I would never again drink beer, then tequila, then scotch, then more beer! (I would, of course, drink tequila, then beer, then more beer, then scotch!) It was a real awakening to truth the morning I woke up and realized that this disease was no intermittent or temporary: it was permanent. This was the way my body works and that will never change for the better. It will, however, change for the worse....which leads me to...

3. Progressive:   "We are convinced to a man that alcoholics of our type are in the grip of a progressive illness. Over any considerable period of time, we get worse, never better." This physical and permanent condition is not static in nature: it's progressive. Progressively worse, not progressively better. That is, the way my body processes alcohol is such that once I've started putting alcohol into my body, my body will act as though I desperately need more...and more....and more. There is no amount that will ever be "enough" for any period of time. What might be enough when I was 20 was no longer enough when I was 30. And by the time I was 48, I knew that there was really no quantity that would ever be enough. I was hopeless.

Well, I was hopeless until I discovered through watching my son and two other young people get and stay sober for 5 months and 10 days. When their success blinded me to my own delusions, I woke up and saw myself as I really was: an alcoholic, a man whose body process alcohol differently than non-alcoholics, whose body would always process alcohol differently and who disease would continue to get worse and worse as long as I kept putting alcohol into this same body.

So when I'm reciting this long version of the 1st step, the most important part of the reading comes in the middle: "We learned that we had to fully concede to our inner most selves that we were [Physically, Permanently and Progressively] alcoholics. This is the first step in recovery. The delusion that we are like other people, or presently may be, has to be smashed."

Well, this delusion of mine got smashed October 21, 2001.  The Powerlessness referred to in the Reader's Digest version of the first step found on p.59 of the Big Book, does not get me thinking about me vs. a glass of scotch.  No, powerlessness gets me thinking of the Three Ps: that my Physical body processes alcohol the exact way an alcoholic's body processes alcohol; that my body will always--Permanently--do that and if I were to put alcohol into my body now, this disease would reactivate and begin its Progressive destruction of me, body and soul. I'm not so much powerless over alcohol as I am powerless to be someone other than who I am: at least in regards to alcohol and other outside solutions to inside problems. Thank God or Whoever.

If you feel any sense of disappointment that you couldn't figure out my riddle, please don't feel bad. The only reason that I think this became so clear to me is that I decided to add this long version of the 1st step to my daily routine of reciting things to myself while I drive to/from work every day. I suspect that I have recited p.30 to myself probably close to a 1,000 times in the last five years. You try that and you will find things within such a passage that you never saw before. You'd be amazed at what I've found in How It Works after reciting it a comparable number of times AND hearing it in probably 700+ meetings each of the last almost 8 years: and I'm still able to hear one "new" word in that passage now that I never saw before! Shaking my head... Some are sicker than others.

Take care!

Mike L.

A 1st Step Puzzle/Riddle: The Three Ps of Alcoholism

2009-08-27T14:54:00.000-07:00

One thing I often recommend when someone is working a 1st Step is that they first carefully read and re-read what I call the "Long Version of the 1st Step" found on page 30 of the Big Book. It's the first page of the 3rd Chapter, called "More About Alcoholism". On that page is the statement, "We learned that we had to fully concede to our innermost selves that we were alcoholics. This is the first step in recovery."

The challege then, is learning and understanding what an alcoholic actually is. If you don't have a good and accurate perception of what an alcoholic is, then I suspect that your 1st step will not be as effective as hoped. An example of a poor understanding of what an alcoholic is can be found in my own history: for years I "knew" that alcoholism was a disease, but I thought that disease was one that was temporary or one that could be cured.

Every time I had an alcoholic "incident" in my life, I would be baffled as to why I did what I did (because it seemed to be something very close to what my dad had done at some point...and he was an alcoholic!) and I would then swear "never" to do that again. According to this plan then, while I may have accidentally acted "like" an alcoholic during that unfortunate incident, it was within my power to change my behavior in such a manner as to avoid actually being an alcoholic. Truly a delusional and self-serving view of this disease.

So, what I ask my sponsees to do is to read this page very carefully to discover what it holds for us in terms of more accurate information about the disease of alcoholism. I then ask them to figure out what I am going to call "the three Ps of Alcoholism". Hidden in that reading are three very important characteristics of the disease of alcoholism: each characteristic begins with the letter "P".

Before they begin, I give them a hint in the form of a riddle: None of the three P words are "powerless" BUT all three of the P words can be summarized by the word "Powerless" or "Powerlessness".

Anyone want to take a shot at what the three P words are which describe critical characteristics of the disease of alcoholism? Bonus points will be awarded to those who can then explain how all three P words can be summarized by the word "Powerless." Good luck!

Take care!

Mike L.

Three Most Important Days for the Recoverying Alcoholic

2009-08-17T11:36:00.000-07:00

When I begin sponsoring someone, I always ask them for their "Day Zero" date. It's the first day in their recovery: the day they didn't put any more alcohol or other drugs into their system. A Day Zero begins just after midnight (technically, 00:00:01 or 12:00:01 o'clock) and ends, assuming no alcohol/drugs ingested that day, at midnight. Day Zero is one of the most most important days in a recovering alcoholic's life.

Another very important day is "Day One" which most people refer to as the day they "got" sober. Interestingly enough, Day Zero and Day One will equal each other by the end of the day. I always enter a "Day Zero" event in my Outlook calendar for each of my sponsees, setting that event to remind me each month about this milestone so that I can celebrate with them when that happens. If it doesn't, I just hope to create a new one when that happens.

The last day of most importance for the recovering alcoholic? Today. Ultimately, it's the most important day for me. Today. Full of possibilities. Day Zero and Day One are both still extremely important to me, because without them, I would have all the possibilities before me now. I'd be back in the darkness, without hope.

Take care, Today!

Mike L.

What's So Important About Identifying AA's Birthday?

2009-08-14T10:03:00.000-07:00

Several months ago, I posted a blog talking about when AA began. There had been much talk in meetings at the time about AA's "birthday" being June 10th because that was the day Bob sobered up from his last relapse. In my blog, I took the position that this June date was incorrect as far as I was concerned because I suspected the rationale underneath that was the supposed "unacceptability" of relapse and that AA certainly couldn't have one of it's founders relapse "after" AA officially began. My question to the Fellowship is: Why not?

http://mikelrecovery.blogspot.com/2009/06/aa-began-before-dr-bobs-last-relapse.html

This week, I received a comment and opposing view on that blog from Dick B., a rather well known AAer, writer and historian.

Dick commented:

Interesting point about WHEN A.A. began. Lois thought it began back in New York. T. Henry thought it began when Dr. Bob dropped to his knees with the little fellowship and prayed for recovery. And some dispute the dates. However, as I wrote some time ago in The Akron Genesis of Alcoholics Anonymous, the key point is not WHEN A.A. began. The key point is that it did begin in Akron in 1935; and Bill and Bob dated the beginning of the first group Akron Number One as the day that A.A. Number Three Bill Dotson walked out of the hospital a free man. It should be noted that there were no Steps or Traditions or meetings or drunkalogs. And no Big Book. All three men turned to God for help and then were cured by the power of God. There's a lesson there.
http://www.dickb.com/index.shtml
God Bless, Dick B.

My response to Dick follows:

Dick--I agree that it doesn't really matter about WHEN AA began, but I wasn't trying to make a historical point. I was trying to make a "meaning" point --- which was that in my opinion (no authority needed for that) one of the most important points in time in the process of AA "becoming" was the talk between Bill and Bob at that kitchen table on Mother's Day, 1935. A talk that was, according to Bob's conditions for even meeting with this stranger, supposed to last no more than 15 minutes. It ended up lasting 6 hours more than those 15 minutes.
It was, according to the author of A Member's Eye View of AA, the first recorded time that one alcoholic reached out to another drunk with the intent to that it would help them stay sober.
You and I may disagree about when AA began, but that disagreement would be akin to a Pro Lifer and a Right to Lifer arguing about when "human life" begins: at conception? at birth? Who knows.
We also seem to disagree about the "key point" in terms of the importance of AA's beginning: you identify the importance being the turning to God for help and that God somehow cured these 3 men.
I rather think that the "key point" in AAs coming about was (and is!) the fact of two alcoholics coming together to help each other with their disease. In addition, one of the "key points" in this weird organization's continued success was the two early AAers who were atheists and what they did to ensure this organization would survive beyond a few weeks, months or years. These two atheists helped keep AA from becoming a religious, non-denominational or not, organization which it would have certainly become had these three supposed spiritual giants, Bill W., Dr. Bob and Bill D. had their way.
It was these two atheists who fought tooth and nail against the over-religiosity of early AA (under the strong influence of the Oxford Group and others...) and I believe it was that atheistic stubbornness which eventually resulted in several AA literary gems that many, many members now attribute as a major reason why they were and have been able to stay in AA: "Higher Power," "as you understand Him" and "a power greater than yourself". Those phrases didn't originate from Bill: they were pushed down his throat and the throats of the other pioneers of AA by two stubborn atheists. Not Agnostics. Atheists.
I personally think that AA's doing quite well today. I don't have any desire to get AA to get back to its roots. I suspect that you do -- I wish you well on your endeavor of herding cats.
The reason we don't do things like they did in the early days is not because we've become lazy or followers of Satan. We no longer do things like make newcomers kneel down in a room upstairs and say the 3rd step prayer BEFORE being allowed into their first meeting anymore BECAUSE IT DOESN'T WORK NOW and probably didn't work all too well back then...at least long term.
But that's my opinion. AA as an organization, and as a group, traditionally has "no opinions" on outside issues, but the fact that most people fail to understand is that as an organization, groups and members: AAers have ONLY opinions about INSIDE issues. Should we or anyone else disagree on that statement, well, that just goes to prove my point.
I suppose that is also another key reason I've been able to stay in this weird organization.
Take care Dick. I have to admit that I am honored to have such a well known AAer and historian visit my blog. That said, I'm not at all overwhelmed by your celebrity or supposed authority. I was mentored by one of the greats in AA and one of the great lessons he taught me was to be careful of the "I Know The Way Gang". There is no "outside authority" in or within AA: the only "ultimate" authority is what's found to be true in our individual hearts.
Our names for that ultimate authority are different; none of us has to be wrong.
Take care!
Mike L.

Sometimes the comments I receive are amazing and I hate to have them buried down so deep in the blog... So for this one, I thought I would like to highlight it a little.

Take care!

Mike L.

Sponsoring Others: When Do I Stop Raising My Hand?

2009-08-13T14:45:00.000-07:00

In some meetings, there's a tradition where they ask for anyone who's willing to be a sponsor or even a temporary sponsor to raise their hands. It's done to help the newcomer, or someone who's looking for a sponsor regardless of the time sober, find a sponsor. Recently, I've been feeling somewhat conflicted about raising my hands because I'm concerned that I am overextending myself or developing a Messiah complex (trying to save the world).

I've never asked someone if they wanted a sponsor. During the first three and a half years of sobriety, I did have several people come up to me after meetings, most frequently when I had told my story at the meeting, and talk to me about my becoming their sponsor: I always gave them my phone number/email address, but none of them ever called me back. It was only when I finally came to a point when I knew that I was done with working the Steps that someone actually came up to me and asked me to be his sponsor that the guy actually followed up on that request and called me and met with me. He's still my sponsee today and he's close to celebrating 4 years of sobriety.

Now after almost 8 years of recovery, I have about 10 sponsees: each of them very different in all respects. I think the only thing they all have in common is that they see something in me that's attractive to them and that they seem to be getting something out of our bi-weekly get together over coffee or dinner or just sitting outside a meeting to talk. My strategy of sponsorship has never been to focus solely or even primarily on working the Steps or reading the Big Book together. At first, I did just what had been done with me by my three primary sponsors: Dr. Earle, Dave and Russ. All three of them had the following approach when sponsoring me: they listened really well, they told great stories and they never (ever!) told me what to do or judged me.

The Steps really just sort of happened to me during my first 3 1/2 years of recovery: I went to a great Step meeting every Sunday morning for probably the first five years of my recovery, I read everything I could put my hands on (both AA approved and not) related to recovery (broadly defined). When I wondered about something in regards to any of the Steps or what I was hearing from others about any of the Steps, I talked to my sponsors about this and came to my own peace with each step. Each step was sort of like a pot of coffee: it started cooking at some point, usually "in order" (but not always) and then at some point later on, it was clear to me that the pot was done: the percolating had stopped and the pot/Step was done. I would then begin focusing my attention on the next step and it too would eventually happen.

When I was coming to the "done" part of the 12th Step, I was terrified of finishing it because I knew that completing the 12th step meant, so AA conventional wisdom held, that I would then need to begin sponsoring others. I didn't want to sponsor others: ever! I didn't want people coming to me, getting close to me, asking me for advice or input, expecting me to take them through the steps in some very specific way (like they may have heard everyone else talk about step work in meetings: it sometimes sounds like we all agree on how the steps should be worked and we pretend that there is only "one" way to do them! By the Book! What's that mean anyway? Don't get me started on the invisible "4th column" in the 4th step!). No, I'd taken care of myself, picked the best sponsors ever and well, they were free to go talk to Dave or Russ (or talk to the dead Earle if they so pleased---I do so they are free to do so also!).

But when Kim asked me to sponsor him, I simply couldn't say no. I told him that he was the first one to really be serious about this and that I was scared shitless at the prospect of sponsoring someone. That said, we moved forward and I told him that he was going to be much more the teacher than I was. Interestingly enough, he wanted to go through the Steps right away and wanted my help in doing that. It was clear that my approach of going through the steps was not going to be right for him. So we began going through the books (Big Book and 12x12) much like I hear everyone else talking about. I told him that I hadn't done it this way, so not to be surprised if it started to become clear to him that I was a complete failure as a sponsor. But we got through it together. He couldn't read very well and he was even worse at writing. But that didn't seem to bother either one of us: we adapted. His 4th step was a list of events in his life that he just jotted down enough information to remind him to talk to me more about this when we did the 5th step. When we did the 5th step, we just sat at his kitchen table and he told me the story of his life, particularly as it related to his love affair with alcohol and his life long fight not to be an alcoholic. He found relief when we stood up at the end and hugged. I still loved him.

None of my other sponsees have duplicated that process. Each one is different and my approach with each has been quite different. At least three of my sponsees (I really don't like that word by the way) have substantial amounts of sober time than I do -- one is close to 30 years. Three are in the early stages of their recovery, one is vigilantly working on completing this third day today (a week ago, I was thinking he was going to die...). The rest are somewhere in between.

It's only been in the last few months that I've started becoming a little more assertive with the newer guys: giving them writing and reading assignments, setting up secure blogsites where the two of us can communicate with each other and share our thoughts in a safe environment (only the two of us can access their recovery site). Part of that is because I am needing to be more efficient with my time, but also because I'm getting a better feel for what can be helpful to someone else when they are struggling with this disease or with related life issues.

So, how do I know when to stop raising my hand or to actually say "No" to a sponsorship request? So far, it's been simply a matter of do I have at least one hour of time every other week to meet with them. I go to so many meetings, that most often, I find a day/time that I would normally go to a meeting and I set that day/time aside for a particular sponsee. If they need more time, I see what I can do or I try to find someone else who might have more time to help this person.

My next fall back strategy is to begin to farm off these requests to one of my sponsees: I'll say that I can't sponsor them because of a lack of available time but that I will introduce them to some of my sponsees and see if any of them are a good fit for this deal.

So, for now, I think I'm going to keep raising my hand and making myself available. This sponsorship thing has been the most rewarding and transformative part of my recovery to date. I really don't see them as sponsees: I see them more as very close friends with whom I've structured some regular time together to talk about what's going on in our lives and our recovery.

Take care!

Mike L.

Attitude of Gratitude

2009-08-07T19:53:00.000-07:00

I've got several of my sponsees working on a common assignment (I'm not an assignment kind of sponsor --- but for some reason, each of them seemed to be asking for an assignment and I came up with this....) and I realized today that today, more than ever, I needed to practice my own counsel. These guys have been making daily gratitude lists which are a little different than what most people do with these lists. Because of some things I learned from Earle early on in my recovery, I've adapted the typical daily list of things you feel grateful for by adding a little addendum of resentments. Another unusual thing about this assignment is that I setup a private blog space for each of them to write these gratitude lists: each blog site is tightly secured so that only the two of us have access to their blog and only the two of us can post things to those blog sites. [Quick aside: This use of a blog site is a great tool for increasing my ability to communicate with my sponsees and for them to communicate with me.... When they post a message to their blog, I get notified by email and the same happens when I post something to their site. It's been great...]

What I've asked these guys to do is make a daily list of at least 10 things that they feel grateful for in their lives. They can list more than 10 if they like, but they need to try to come up with at least 10. In addition, I ask them to list 3 to 5 things that they simply do not feel grateful for --- in fact, they may be things they adamantly regret or resent. The only restriction on these items is that they can only be very brief statements (no more than a line or so) and they must all end with a period. What I'm wanting is for them to document their resentments or regrets by writing them down very briefly. I know these resentments are there, so we might as well write them down. Just a short phrase which will remind them later on about what they wish didn't or wasn't happening in their lives. Write one down quickly and put a period after it. Write a second one down quickly and put a period after it. At least 3 of these and no more than 5.

No one ever told me to do a gratitude list this way. I just made it up because it seemed to embody the truth/wisdom that Earle passed on to me: that is, every thing's perfect just the way it is, we don't need to change anything. Also, there's no such thing as a "bad" feeling or "bad" circumstance: whatever's happened is just the way it's supposed to be. And the kicker: were it not for all the so-called "bad" things, I wouldn't be where I am right now. Were it not for all the so-called "bad" things in the past, I wouldn't have most all of the things that I actually feel grateful for today.

For Earle, gratitude was not a feeling: it was an attitude. A habit which many many people in recovery over the last 70+ years have found very helpful in their staying sober and finding some semblance of peace, serenity, happiness and joy.

1. I'm grateful for my sobriety today.
2. I'm grateful for my wife of 28+ years, especially for the last 7 years where things have seemed to blossom between us (sure it's a pure coincidence that I'm 7+ years sober now...).
3. I'm grateful for each of my children.
4. I'm grateful for my daughter asking me to go with her to see Robin Williams do a comedy show in Mill Valley Weds night: it was a continuation of my living amends with her.
5. I'm grateful for Matt trusting me enough to tell me the truth about his day count and to resume our journey of recovery together.
6. I'm grateful for a stranger coming up to me after the meeting tonight and asking me if I would sponsor him: we'd met about a year ago, but he went out and is just now coming back into the program after a DUI last weekend (he's scared and desperate). I'm honored beyond words.
7. I'm grateful for my job and the wonderful and skilled team of folks that work for me and give me the freedom and flexibility in my schedule to squeeze in what I really love to do into my busy work days.
8. I'm grateful for all three of my sponsors, especially the dead one.
9. I'm grateful for this weird organization called AA: it's probably the only organization I could belong to without a resentment or anxiety or fear of judgment or condemnation.
10. I'm grateful for this blog and all of the amazing folks I'm come to know and love as a result of this endeavor to expand my program into a new arena.

Now, the things I'm not so damn grateful for today:

1. That Mike H. took his life a few weeks ago: I had tears come to my eyes this morning at his funeral when I saw his mother standing near his ashes.
2. That the last time I saw Mike H. I didn't sense the deep level of anxiety within him, nor did I go up to him after that Weds meeting and give him a hug.
3. That Earle's not here with me now so that I can talk through these feelings of sadness and regret with him.

The attitude of gratitude is not for the faint of heart or the half measures sort of folks. It's for those who commit themselves to the no bullshit program of Alcoholics Anonymous. It takes work each day. There are no days off. There's no "fake it til you make it" escape measures. It's life head on and face to face. It's writing stuff down so that you can go back to it later on and start putting the pieces together.

I am confident that I will be able to go back to this list sometime in the not too distant future and discovery that they three regrets will have led to some new deepening of my own compassion for others and myself, some new heightened sensitivity for the pain and suffering within someone who crosses my path, whether that be within the context of a meeting or elsewhere.

I know that because there were regrets in my not too distant past which are now appearing on my list of things that I do feel grateful for today: (1) I used to regret that I was an alcoholic (none of the ten items above would be on that list were I not an alcoholic then and today); (2) I used to regret that I was married and that I had children --- they were expecting too much from me and I was feeling more and more the total and absolute failure as husband and father (now, I can't imagine life without my wife or my grown and wonderful children). I could go on forever.

But my day's at an end and I'm wiped out. This was a long, full day. But I couldn't end it without going through this gratitude list process.

Take care!

Mike L.

Death and Life...In That Order

2009-07-29T22:22:00.000-07:00

I've been very busy in my life recently, but in recent weeks, I've had three experiences with people dying: and all three were alcoholics:

1. The first was a old man, 41 years sober, who took his own life about 5 weeks ago.

2. The second was a young man, somewhere in his first 30 days (again), who took his own life yesterday.

3. The third was a brother of a new friend of who just recently celebrated 25 years sober. This friend just went back to his family home on the East coast to be with his brother who was in the last stages of dying a painful death as a result of his late stage and untreated (as far as I know)alcoholism.

Lots of death. All sorts of feelings and thoughts associated with each of these deaths. Essentially, all of them boil down to a deep sadness.

The first guy appeared to me to be a very very unhappy and lonely man, despite a long string of years of sobriety and active membership in AA. This came out in frequent fits of anger. Didn't seem to have a close friend. Fairly long string of failed relationships with women. I don't know his story and don't in any way mean to be judging him good or bad. Just what I saw over the last 7 years or so.

The second guy is the one whose death brought up the most sadness in me: he'd been struggling for quite a few years to get sober and had many issues in addition to his problem with alcohol/drugs. But he was trying with all his might to get and stay sober. I didn't know him well at all, just a few interactions within the meeting rooms in Sacramento where I work, but I didn't really know him well at all. Last time I saw him was at last Wednesday's noon meeting, the same meeting where his sponsor announced earlier today that one of our members had taken his own life yesterday. I quickly remembered back to last Wednesday and how depressed this guy had seemed that day: he was clearly anxious, had to get up and leave the meeting several times to go wash off his face or just walk off some of the anxiety that he was feeling: and then he'd return to his seat. He didn't talk that day. I remember noticing him and his heightened state of anxiety. But I got distracted by someone else's share that day and I made the decision to stay after and talk to that guy rather than Mike. Never saw him again and didn't think anything of it until today.

The third guy is someone I know only through this new friend who recently shared with me a brief history of what was going on with his brother back East who was dying of his alcoholism. He shared that with me a little over a week ago, just as he was heading off to go be with his brother and his family. I learned from a mutual friend today that Chris' brother had died this week and that Chris had been there for the death and was now having to deal not only with his brother's death but also with a rather crazy family going through the process of dealing with a son/brother's death. Hard enough to deal with death when every one's sane: can't imagine the pain of having to go through that with the pain getting mixed in with all sorts of religious craziness and platitudes (e.g., it was God's will, he's in a better place, etc.). Few, if any, actually dealing honestly and openly with the deep sadness and loss.

That's sort of what I'm beginning to go through I suppose. Feelings of sadness. Loss. In the case of Mike, the second guy I have talked about, I've been mostly going through a process where I look back at my words, my actions, my silence and my non-action: what did I say to help him, what did I do to help him, what did I keep to myself, what did I fail to do? I talked a little bit about this at the noon meeting today and there was one guy who seemed to be subtly counselling me (you know, through the subtle cross-talk that we oftentimes do in meetings, where we comment on what someone else has said without really talking directly to them...but we are) not to go through this second guessing process: According to him, I'm not responsible for this guy's decision to kill himself (which of course is true), nor am I responsible for his drinking or his sobriety (also true) and that there was nothing I could have done or said that would have made a difference in the end result. And it's that last message that I just can't accept without going through a careful self-assessment.

My sponsor once told me a story about a guy, years ago, who came into the rooms of AA trying to get sober, but over a 10 to 15 year period he was never able to get much time. He kept going out. But he kept coming back eventually and both Dave and his sponsor, Earle, kept trying to do anything they could to try and help this guy get sober. Eventually, the guy ended up committing suicide. Dave and Earle drove to Berkeley to attend the funeral/memorial and while they were there, the guy's wife came over to them and said, "You must be Dave and you must be Earle. I just wanted to come over and tell you that my husband talked most fondly of both of you and how much you both did to try and help him deal with his alcoholism. You guys never gave up on him and that meant a lot to him and to me." When they were driving home from the funeral, Dave looked over at Earle and noticed him deep in thought and shaking his head slowly back and forth. Earle then said, somewhat to himself, "I was always trying to find the right words to help him... And I never was able to find them."

While I'm not done going through this process of grieving for these three guys, ultimately, I know that I'll end up in the same place: "I was always trying to find the right words to help them. And I was not able to find them before their death."

"I am responsible. When anyone, anywhere, reaches out for help, I want the hand of AA always to be there. And for that: I am responsible."

I've never really felt comfortable with the Responsibility Declaration (sometimes referred to as the AA Grapevine's Statement of Purpose), but now I think I am comfortable with it. It doesn't start off by saying, "I am guilty..." No, it says that I am responsible. For what I say, what I don't say, what I do and what I don't do....in terms of helping others. I can own all of this. I can grow from my mistakes and failures. I can choose life.

I can choose life. Strange that I come to realize that truth more fully only after having had experienced three separate and powerful encounters with dying and death.

I read somewhere, wish I could remember where, that someone said that most of us go through our entire lives fearing death....when in fact what we should really be fearing is dying without ever having lived. Living life fully seems more important to me now. How often I get distracted by the details of life such that I start "surviving" and forget "living".

Feel better now. Want to see if I can get up to Sacramento on Saturday to attend Mike's funeral. See if I can be of any comfort to his family or to others.

Take care!

Mike L.

My Name is Winnie the P., And I Am An Alcoholic

2009-07-18T14:21:00.000-07:00

I was reading a great book while I was on vacation, called The Dark Night of Recovery by Edward Bear and in it the sponsor (wrinkled and crotchety 30 year sober guy) recommends four books for the new sponsee (15 years sober, dry as a stick attorney): The Big Book, the 12x12, a book on Winnie the Pooh and The I Ching. I couldn't find the book on Winnie the Pooh at the eclectic book store near where we were staying, but I did find a great book called the The Tao of Pooh by Benjamin Hoff which was more than sufficed for my purposes. The sponsor in the Dark Night book would give reading assignments to this guy, Big Brain that he was, and have him report back in two weeks with a report on how these readings helped him understand the step they were working on... Fascinating book.

As I read The Tao of Pooh with the hope of finding more 1st step wisdom, I came across a song/poem of Winnie the Pooh's (original author was A.A. Milne...how serendipity is that?!) called "Cottleston, Cottleston, Cottleston Pie". According to the author of the Tao of Pooh, this poem captures the essence of Taoism in that it basically is saying that we are already perfect just as we are, we don't need to change anything. In his view, one could replace the "Cottleston" verse with "Inner Nature" or "what is, what is".

Anyway, as I'm apt to do, I decided to memorize the Cottleston rhyme two days ago and after saying it over and over again the last two days, I began to understand the truth hidden deep within it and how much it spoke to me about my recovery and my alcoholism. Especially my 1st Step and how I got sober and how I've been able to stay sober. Yesterday, I started trying to take this rhyme and revise it in such a way that it spoke more clearly of my own truth and within a few attempts I was able to come up with my own version of the Cottleston rhyme that speaks more truthfully of my own experience of getting and staying sober. It's an AA poem of sorts: I say that because 2/3s of it are stolen from someone else's spiritual writings. True AA.

My name is Winnie the Pooh, and I am an alcoholic.

Coddleston, Coddleston, Coddleston Pie
A fly can't bird, but a bird can fly
Ask me a riddle and I reply
Coddleston, Coddleston, Coddleston Pie

Coddleston, Coddleston, Coddleston Pie
A fish can't whistle, neither can I.
Ask me a riddle and I reply
Coddleston, Coddleston, Coddleston Pie

Coddleston, Coddleston, Coddleston Pie
Why does a chicken... I don'know why!
Ask me a riddle and I reply
Coddleston, Coddleston, Coddleston Pie
　
It is or it isn't; I am or I amn't
A drink can't drunk, but a drunk can sober.
Ask me a riddle and I reply
It is or it isn't; I am or I amn't

It is or it isn't; I am or I amn't
A drunk can't drink, and neither can I!
Ask me a riddle and I reply
It is or it isn't; I am or I amn't

It is or it isn't; I am or I amn't
Why does an alcoholic...i don't know why!
Ask me a riddle and I reply
It is or it isn't; I am or I amn't

Coddleston, Coddleston, Coddleston Pie
A fly can't bird, but a bird can fly
Ask me a riddle and I reply
Coddleston, Coddleston, Coddleston Pie

Coddleston, Coddleston, Coddleston Pie
A fish can't whistle, neither can I.
Ask me a riddle and I reply
Coddleston, Coddleston, Coddleston Pie

Coddleston, Coddleston, Coddleston Pie
Why does a chicken... I don'know why!
Ask me a riddle and I reply
Coddleston, Coddleston, Coddleston Pie

My name is Winnie the Pooh, and I am an alcoholic.

Take Care!

Mike L.

So, What Do You Mean By That?

2009-07-10T09:17:00.000-07:00

Last week my son taught me something that I think I'm going to have a hard time learning. When someone says something that I strongly disagree with, he suggests that rather than arguing with them or trying to convince them of the incorrectness of their view (or the correctness of my own) that I simply ask them, "So, what do you mean by that?"

I can't remember what it is I was recounting to my son, but when I had explained what had happened and how poorly my own response had worked, I was stunned by the wisdom of his simple approach. Rather than argue, just ask them what they mean? Word by word if necessary.

Recently, I have gotten embroiled in a testosterone laced argument with another recovery blogger over the issue of whether alcoholism is a disease or a choice. I grabbed on to the word "disease" and he grabbed on to the word "choice" and we started beating each other over the head with our words, getting absolutely nowhere.

In one of our exchanges, he stated that the only thing he and I agreed with is that alcoholism is an allergy. I glossed over that statement until this morning when I realized that I'm not at all clear what the distinction is between something being an allergy but not a disease. I've always considered allergy to be a type or example of a disease. That is, an alcohol allergy is a type of disease.

I guess I should follow my son's advice and ask this guy, "So, what do you mean by disease?" How can alcoholism not be a disease but still be an allergy? And, what do you mean by alcoholism being a "choice"? What choice does the alcoholic have? Drink? Not drink? Can an alcoholic choose to drink "like" a non-alcoholic?

I hate it when my son forgets his role as student and becomes better teacher than dad.

Take care! I've got to go back to school.

Mike L.

Just in Case You Didn't Know...

2009-07-09T07:02:00.000-07:00

I really do love Alcoholics Anonymous. I really do.

I was reading another recovery blog yesterday and it contained a long diatribe against the "disease concept" of alcoholism and interwoven into the argument were constant negative shots against AA. I am very aware of the ongoing dispute between those who believe alcoholism is a "disease" and those for whom this is a "choice". But what struck me was that the author was so adamant in his dislike of AA. There was nothing good in it and nothing good has come from it.

I then looked at my own blog, especially my recent "dumbest things heard in AA meeting" blogs and realized that I might be coming across in the same way. I do love AA no matter how much I might want to distance myself from some of those who understand AA to be something far different than it is for me. But you see, that's why I love AA so much. It allows me to continue being a full fledged member while I speak up against some of what I consider to be distortions in how it's being played out by other members. I really think this is the first group where I might be able to stay!

One thing that the article's author said of AA is that it has certain "dogma" that members must believe. While I know that there may be certain beliefs that some members or groups would be unanimous in supporting or disputing, the fact is that there are no dogmas in AA. There's nothing you can believe that would get you excommunicated from AA. Nothing. Worse case is that a particular group might vote you out of their meeting, but there's nothing keeping you from going to another meeting or, for that matter, starting another meeting on your own. All you need to do is find another suffering alcoholic with a desire to stop drinking --- and with enough patience to deal with your bullshit. I suspect that you'll need to lay down your sword in terms of whatever burr you have up your saddle long enough to reach out to this other alcoholic who is struggling with the life and death issue of how to stop drinking. But that will be within your reach if you want to do it.

I've belonged to organizations which have dogmas and they've never gone over well with me. AA's the first organization which seems to have a unlimited level of tolerance for those with different beliefs and/or ways of seeing things. While most members of AA will probably side with the "disease" concept, I'm sure that there will be a significant number who would love to sit down with other alcoholics who have come to an opposite conclusion on this matter. Me for example.

I certainly see where the disease argument can be misused to escape personal responsibility for our actions. While I personally don't think I chose to be an alcoholic, I did freely choose to drink alcohol. At some point, I think that my freedom to choose to drink started to diminish due to the disease of alcoholism: that is, my body was reacting differently to alcohol than the body of a non-alcoholic. That said, I can still agree with the "choice" view of things: I was choosing to drink even though I had the disease of alcoholism. For me, it was more of an issue of "diminished capacity" to make a free choice.

Anyway, I wanted to clarify where I stand with AA today. My blog has been a safe place for me to talk about some things that bother me about AA or about other AAers --- but nothing I've said here in cyberspace is something that I haven't already said in AA meetings. And in most all of the meetings I go into, I feel like Norm walking into Cheers. I'm welcomed.

I go to a large number of meetings each week and in addition to those which I consider my "home groups" I also go to meetings where I'm not known or to meetings where I'm sure to disagree with the general outlook of those present. I like going into such meetings, not to be disagreeable (there's really no point in doing that!) but to feel apart of that fellowship, to listen to other views, to find tolerance and acceptance within myself and within others. But mostly, because I'm in need of being around other suffering alcoholics.

And I've found that there's a very high probability of finding such suffering alcoholics in AA meetings. Haven't found one yet without at least one other suffering alcoholic.

So, if I haven't said it often enough: thank you Bill and Dr. Bob! The miracle that happened around that kitchen table has continued to grow and multiply and it's in large part due to the basic guidelines you two fashioned way back when.

Take care.

Mike L.

Yet Another Dumbest Thing I've Heard in a AA Meeting

2009-07-07T07:19:00.000-07:00

I guess this is becoming something of an ongoing series, Dumbest Things I've Heard in AA Meetings. This will be volume 3 or the 15th Dumbest Thing: I Finally Got Tired of Working "My Program" and Started Working "The Program" (as found in the 1st 164 pages of the Book) of Alcoholics Anonymous. Once someone makes this statement, either about themselves or about someone else (e.g., are you tired of working "your program" yet? If so, maybe you'd like to try "the program of AA"?) they then point out the specifics of "the program" which will usually be something along these lines: work the steps, get a sponsor, get a higher power and get into service. Well, if that's the program as defined in the 1st 164 pages, then we'll need to take out the "get a sponsor" piece of the program because the word "sponsor" or "sponsorship" isn't to be found in the 1st 164 pages. So much for "The Program".

The idea that there is a single and narrowly defined program of AA irks me no end and seems go against the very foundations of what Bill, Dr. Bob and the early members of AA discovered to work. It's clear to me (I suppose as clear as the opposite view is to those who disagree with me) that the program that's outlined in the book is very generalized and designed to be customized by each person who decides to try it out.

As an organization, we've had no reticence in letting other 12 step fellowships take these steps and use them in other non-alcoholic contexts. Take 'em! Use them in any way that you find works for you! And isn't it strange that this dogmatic view of AA is not found in any official AA literature? Why's this narrow view of AA's program limited only to stories about single individuals and what they said to someone sometime?

In fact, I most recently read about an instance of this happening when someone who follows this blog went to her 2nd meeting and was approached by an oldtimer who asked her if she was tired of working "her program"? What was strange to me is that except for that one idiot, this woman heard all sorts of good and encouraging things said at that meeting: but it seems all she walked away with was the narrowness of this one guy's view and how uncomfortable it made her feel. She'd almost completely forgotten all the good things she had heard in that same meeting.

Find out what works for you and what does not. We can't tell you what to do because (1) that doesn't seem to work for people like us (and we are all about effectiveness!) and (2) we aren't you and what works for any one of us might get you drunk! All I can tell you is what has (and hasn't) worked for me. All "we" can tell you is what has worked for many of us --- but that's not to say that it will work for you. But it might. And you might want to give this a shot if what you've been trying hasn't been working for you. We've got lots of suggestions, so if one thing doesn't work, keep listening and you may hear someone tell your story and it might include some other tool that will work for you.

Or, think completely outside of the box: that's what Bill and Dr. Bob did. And that's what they suggested that others do on page 164: "Our book is meant to be suggestive only. We realize we know only a little. God will constantly disclose more to you and to us." Why is it that we're afraid to admit that we know only a little? That new things might be disclosed to us and others? Or even that old things might actually work (or not work)? We're a fearful lot.

Thank God we don't have to do this alone. Or perfectly. Or the exact way that others do it.

Find your program. Find your Truth. I think that you'll find that most of us a sitting here cheering you on and hoping that you find something that works for you and that when you do find something that does work, that you'll share it with us so that we might give it a shot ourselves. So go ahead and think outside the box. And don't be afraid of thinking in the box either. Who knows, it (whatever that is) might very well work. Even though "sponsor" is not in the first 164 pages, it has been something that has been helpful to me.

Take care!

Mike L.

The Steps' Hidden Principles: An Addendum

2009-07-04T10:30:00.000-07:00

Several weeks ago, I wrote a blog called "The Steps Hidden Principles" (http://mikelrecovery.blogspot.com/2009/06/steps-hidden-principles.html) and I received an anonymous comment stating:

"Where as (sic) I think some of your thoughts are some what poetic with regards to a mystical "interpretation" to the term ..." practice these principals... (sic) " they are not accurate. Bill did not like to repeat himself by using the same word to describe something over and over again. He would substitute another word. If you read the steps carefully by the time you get to step twelve the "principals" (sic) are the twelve steps in their entirety. In other parts of the book the term is used differently. I do thank you for your spiritual insight and understanding."

What struck me most about the comment was that it spoke with some sort of authority: specifically when the author claimed that my interpretation of the Book was inaccurate. I have to admit, that got my adrenaline pumping. I immediately started fashioning an argument in rebuttal, but then I realized that I don't have any more authority than this anonymous person making the comment. I have reassessed my interpretation, carefully re-read the Steps as they are summarized in How It Works, and have decided to stick with my original interpretation.

While I am fully aware of Bill's various writing quirks, including the frequent use of a Thesaurus to find synonyms (e.g., "defects of character" and then "shortcomings"), it's my belief that in the case of his use of the words "steps" and "principles" this was not one of those instances. Unlike Defects and Shortcomings, Steps and Principles simply aren't synonyms. They don't mean the same thing. Steps are more time-based and linear (do this, then that...); Principles are more mystical and timeless (truths). (NOTE to "Anonymous": maybe that's why my writing on this issue seems so "mystical" and maybe even uncomfortable to you?)

As I see it, the steps outline a process of recovery from the disease of alcoholism. They seem to be capable of being done in time, one after another (or maybe not in order). In my personal experience, what happened as I went through each step in the process, I discovered various truths about life and others, but most importantly, truths about myself. It's these truths that I consider to be the principles hidden in these steps.

But as I noted elsewhere, when we share these steps with others, we share them as "reports of action taken rather than as commandments to be followed" (A Member's Eye View of AA). So if Anonymous and all of the other members of AA want to consider Steps = Principles, that's perfectly OK with me. I don't feel isolated at all because I'm not alone. I'm with others who have differing opinions than me.

I'm fond of saying that while the 10th Tradition asserts that AA has no opinion about outside issues, the truth of the matter is that in regards to inside issues, all the members have is opinions. There are no doctrines for which we would have to expel or excommunicate should someone disagree with such strongly held beliefs. There really is no authority in AA other than "whatever works for you." To test this theory: disagree with it. Aren't we both still full fledged members of AA? Is there really any belief that rises to the level that should someone disagree with it, they'd involuntarily outside of the fellowship of AA? I think not.

Take care!

Mike L.

Two 12 Step Calls: Two Ends of the Spectrum

2009-07-02T10:43:00.000-07:00

In the last couple of days, I had the opportunity to help two suffering alcoholics: one who was trying to get sober and the other trying to die sober. When Bill writes in the 12x12 about the 12th Step, he states in the first paragraph that the "theme of the 12th step is the joy of living". And then in the last paragraph of that chapter, he states that "the joy of good living is theme of the 12th step." (emphasis added.) I have always been struck how most people, when asked to talk about the 12th step, normally talk about what they've done or are doing to carry the AA message to suffering alcoholics. Few seem to talk about this "joy of living" --- and I've never heard anyone talk about the "joy of good living". But after these two recent 12 step encounters, I want to talk about the joy of good living that I am experiencing. I'm not sure what color this cloud is, but it's wonder-full.

As I mentioned in a recent blog, I ran into a friend this last Saturday who's been coming to AA for about 4 1/2 years but not able to get more than 10 months continuous sobriety during that period of time. When he sat next to me at the meeting Saturday, he told me right away that he'd had another relapse and consistent with all his relapses in the last 4 1/2 years, he ended up in the Emergency Room. After that meeting, he and I kept running into each other at different places in town: the car wash and later at a oil change station. I was trying to be as helpful to him as I could, but wasn't never quite sure what the right words were to help him. He already had a sponsor (one that he's had for the last 4 1/2 years and one that is pretty well respected in the AA community) and I was hesitant to do or say anything that would get inbetween the two of them or to give him the impression that I was wanting to be his sponsor. It was quite perplexing for me because inside, my judgment was telling me that (1) his relationship with his current sponsor didn't appear to be working and (2) that I really did believe that I'd be a good and helpful sponsor for him. He trusted me from almost our first meeting about 4 years ago.

Anyway, I got a call from him Tuesday night and he told me that he was in trouble and needed help. He "confessed" that he'd been lying to me as to his current sobriety date and that he'd continued to drink since being released from the hospital about 10 days ago. But the immediate trouble he was worried about was that his wife was coming over to see him that evening and he had the uneasy feeling that she was bringing bad news. He asked me to come over and be there for support. He understood perfectly why she would and should give up on him --- but he wasn't sure he could survive the blow, with or without alcohol. He'd already asked his wife if she would mind my being there --- she welcomed my attendance as she'd heard about me from her husband over the last couple of years. She apparently didn't get along well with her husband's current sponsor and thought I might be helpful.

I don't want to go into the detail here, but suffice it to say I talked a lot, mostly to him but also to his wife --- he listened, she kept nodding her head in agreement. And then I saw a mental shift happen: there was a moment where the who tone and direction of the evening shifted away from him "trying to stop drinking...again" toward a willingness to "stop stopping" and then to trying "to stay sober". When that happened, I told him what I saw and he agreed. We made a plan for staying sober the rest of that evening and the following morning. Today he's well into his second day of sobriety.

The following day, I drove to Sacramento where I work and then went to a noon meeting. At the meeting, I realized that it was July and that an old timer that I'd come to know up there was soon going to be celebrating 45 years sober. Fred is a cantankerous old fart who got sober on July 5, 1964. I'd call him an ex-Marine only to see him go into attack mode. He'd moved to Sacramento about 4 years ago -- and he was mad as hell that his wife (10 years less sober than he) made him leave San Antonio so that she could be closer to her children. Hell, we didn't do AA right!

I quickly befriended him. This was shortly after Dr. Earle's death and somehow being helpful to this 91 year old man was therapeutic for me, I think even more therapeutic than it was for him. It was probably a toss up. We became close. He jokingly referred to me and another relative newcomer, Eric (note: Fred thought anyone with less than 20 years sobriety was a newcomer...) as his "sponsors" because we were always correcting him (my god, he could never get his number of years sober right! I was always having to correct him, No, Fred, you don't have 42 years yet....you have 41. That would piss him off and he'd reach in his pocket for his chip and shove it toward me arguing that he really was 42 years. But the chip was on my side. It became a running joke in the meetings and I slowly fell in love with him in a way similar to the way I'd fallen, albeit more instantaneous, in love with Earle.

About a year and a half ago, Fred's wife had to place Fred in a skilled nursing facility which specializes in patients with Alzheimer's....which was Fred had. That was why he was forgetting his sobriety date. I hadn't seen Fred since and felt tremendous guilt over that. I talked to Eric and we decided to make a road trip down to see Fred. We would take him a 45 year chip and hope that he remembered that he was still an alcoholic and, with some minimal hope that he would remember either of us.

Well, we walked into his room and he was sitting on his bed waiting to see who his visitors were... They had prepared him for us coming, but they didn't know anything about us other than we were friends of Fred. Well, he looked up at us standing at the door and his face lit up like a Christmas tree!! Oh my God, I thought you two were dead! Truth be told, at that point, I wasn't sure if he really recognized us or not: maybe we were Marine buddies of his for all I knew. But it became clear in moments that he did know who we were and that we'd lifted him out of some darkness and loneliness. We gave him his birthday card with the chip and he felt it and looked at us and said, what's inside the card? Condoms? I told him that there had been but they removed them at the security gate because they were embarrassingly too small.

When he saw the chip, he almost betrayed the Marine Corps and cried like a baby. And so did I. We reminisced for awhile. He mentioned his favorite prayers, The Lord's Prayer and the 23rd Psalm. I asked if he remembered the meeting where I told people about his love for the 23rd Psalm and that he and I then began reciting the 23rd Psalm together for the whole group. Well, he remembered and then he and I began reciting it again sitting there in his room on Thursday. So much for memory loss.

I've been walking around on a cloud, not sure what color and don't care, for the last couple of days. I think I've discovered the path to a life of Joy. A joyful path to a life of good living. It's being true to one's self and helping others. Especially other suffering alcoholics.

Take care!

Mike

Happiness: Emotional Sobriety

2009-06-29T22:54:00.000-07:00

I was at one of my favorite Saturday morning meetings this last weekend and I ran into a good friend. I could tell as soon as I saw him walking toward where I was sitting that something was troubling him. Turns out he'd had another relapse and, as in most of his recent relapses, it involved the inevitable hospital stay.

He wrote me an email last night and sort of blurted out much of what was occupying his mind and heart. He made a comment that I've been unable to get out of my head since: he said that he'd be struggling to get and stay sober in AA for several years now and he's never been able to get more than 10 months of continuous sobriety. But that wasn't what grabbed my attention. It was the next comment that during those years of being in AA, he'd never really reached a point where he felt truly happy. He can picture the happiness that he felt at earlier times in his life, before alcohol became a problem. But he simply can't picture happiness within sobriety.

What I'm realizing today is that during my first 12 or so months of sobriety, I remember feeling that sober life was really not a substantial improvement in many areas of my life: particularly in terms of my relationship with my wife. We'd been married 20 years when I got sober and it was that first year of marriage that was, for me at least, the most difficult and challenging. Surely, in retrospect, that's because during the first 20 years I was able to resort to happiness shortcuts via alcohol whenever I needed to do that. But then, when I got sober, there were no more shortcuts to happiness. The pain of poor communication and totally inadequate relationship skills was real and frequent. I had some relief from this challenge when I was in meetings, but that didn't do much to improve the relationship. I was working the steps, but I was doing that very slowly.

Earle had cautioned me not to rush head long into the 4th step even though the popular AA opinion was to do just that. He said that we were all pretty beaten up and battered when I walked into the doors of AA and that the last thing we needed to do early on in our recovery was to spend substantial amounts of time writing down how awful we were and what was wrong with us. He suggested that I wait at least a year before considering working that step. I gladly obliged....and more than that. I delayed... Then my wife said something that got me moving forward again....

We were sitting in our living room along with our youngest daughter Rachel. In the course of our conversation, my wife looked over at me and said to Rachel, "Well, he's just a drunk!". She said it with a smile and it was clear to me that it wasn't said to be mean. It was just her acknowledging that I was an alcoholic. Rachel took umbrage though and came to my immediate defense --- as she often does --- she's something of my "Protector" in the family dynamic. She sternly told her mother, "He's not a drunk! He's a recovering alcoholic. So don't call him a drunk!"

My wife, refusing to take the bait of an argument with an unarmed teenage daughter, smiled and explained that she'd meant no offense to me. Rachel then chastised her by saying that "I'm proud of Dad and that he's been sober for almost a year and a half." My wife, with a dangerous smile that only I fear, laughed slightly and said, "I know Rachel, but I'm just wondering when he's going to change."

My wife's comment hit me square between the eyes. She was right. All I'd really accomplished during those 14 or 15 months of sobriety is "not drinking." I'd gotten pretty secure in the "not drinking" part of the program of Alcoholics Anonymous, but I hadn't done much in terms of the inside work that supposedly makes longer term sobriety possible. I knew then that I was done wallowing in my 3rd Step and that the time had come for me to continue working through the remaining steps.

Sometime later, I think I had 3 1/2 years sober and had completed the steps, I was laying in bed one night doing my regular routine: reading a book and rubbing my wife's feet before going to sleep. Rubbing my wife's feet was something that began early in my sobriety when my ill-fated attempts to do a quick and easy 9th step amends with my wife failed miserably and I had to take the more difficult and time-consuming path of making a life long living amends with her: thus the rubbing of feet which goes on until this day and most likely until my death.

Anyway, one night I was reading and rubbing and she asked me a question out of the blue: "Mike, are you happy?"

Now, any of you who are men and married for any length of time know that this sort of question poses tremendous risks. You do not answer such questions with thoughtless haste. You ask yourself: what is it she's really wanting to know? But, unfortunately, her question was so simple and straightforward that even I couldn't invent any ulterior motives or hidden agendas. I quickly determined that she wanted to know exactly what she was asking me: Am I happy?

Not a question easily answered by me. I hadn't thought about this issue of happiness for years. I think that I'd resigned myself to the impossibility of happiness many years before and had given up trying or hoping for such a state of existence. There were times that I thought alcohol might provide the means of happiness: but such alcohol induced happy moments were never lasting or meaningful.

So: was I happy? It didn't take long to realize that I was basically happy and content. So, I turned around and told her that, Yes. I was basically content with my life and that I was really happy. There was nothing that I would change about my past or present.

Interestingly, this woman who only a year and a half before had commented on my not having changed after over a year of not drinking, now looked at me and smiled, "I thought so. That's why I asked." I laughed and went back to my reading and my rubbing.

I certainly don't feel happy, joyous and free every moment of every day. But I have a basic sense of satisfaction over the way my life is living out today. I'm certainly no where close to being done with my inside work. But I am ok with who I am. Right now. I'm grateful.

Is there a simple and straightforward path my friend can follow to achieve this same sort of happiness? No. And Yes.

No -- I think each person will need to find their own path in terms of dealing with the demons of the past, present and future. And I wouldn't characterize the path that I've found as "simple" or "straightforward." In addition to the 12 Steps, I've done many other things none of which have been recommended or suggested in the Big Book. My memory work is just one example of one of these tools that I've used on a regular basis to achieve the level of happiness that I've achieved. Talking things out in meetings or with other alcoholics. Sharing my struggles and secrets with my sponsors and other trusted AA friends. Writing blogs. Helping others with their struggles to get and stay sober. Being a sponsor. Meditating. Praying. Walking the dog. Emptying the trash. Putting down the lid.

And yes: there is a way of living that can bring a sense of happiness, peace and serenity. It is possible. But it takes time and lots of inside work. It takes failures. It takes commitments. And it takes failures. It takes persistence. It takes vigilance. It takes hope. And it takes despair.

As the author of "Everyday Commitments" writes at the end of his book, "All that matters is that we start over one more time that we give up; get cracking one more time than we pull away and keep going back to the drawing board one more time than we abandon it."

Take care!

Mike L.

Change

2009-06-26T15:25:00.000-07:00

Over the last 7 years of sobriety, I've heard two seemingly contradictory messages: (1) to stay sober, you only have to change one thing: everything and (2) you're perfect just they way you are and you don't need to change anything. There are many authors/sources of the first message and only one or two sources for the second: two of my sponsors, Earle and Dave.

The first message scared me when I first started hearing it in my early recovery. That's because in the past, when I was still drinking, I had one primary agent for change: alcohol. Alcohol was my mechanism for changing everything: my wife, my kids, other people, my feelings, my perceptions, my reality, my self. If things were wrong (and they were ALWAYS wrong!), a drink (or two...) would quickly and magically change them and make them better. Or, at worst, the alcohol would make the problems unfeelable.

So after getting struck sober, hearing this message that if I really wanted to stay sober, I was going to have to buy into this commitment to changing everything. Even after I realized that the intent of this message was limited to changing myself and not others or other things --- it still terrified me.

That's about the time I met Earle --- who I've talked about here so much that I'm going to stop introducing him to you. If you're new to my blog, click on the "Dr. Earle" keywords on the right side of my blog and you can read past blogs where I've talked about this man in depth. Anyway, one of the first things that Earle passed on to me with the idea that "I am perfect just the way I am." He repeated this to me again and again and again... You're perfect, Mike! You don't need to change one damn thing. There is nothing wrong with you. This defect of character stuff is bullshit (he was 48 years sober at the time so I let him get away what that heresy...) and over talked about in AA. There's nothing "wrong" with being an alcoholic. What's "wrong" (or maybe, fruitless) is the attempt of an alcoholic to try existing as a non-alcoholic. That's dumb and deadly. I can't drink alcohol like a non-alcoholic in the same way that I can't swim and breathe underwater like a fish. I'm not a fish. I'm not a non-alcoholic.

So I was still bothered by Earle's insistence that I didn't need to change and never got to resolve this issue with him before his death (he died when I was about 14 months sober -- he was over 49 years sober when he died). But over the last couple of years, I've decided that there's nothing wrong with my wanting change in my life: that's part of who I am and that's OK. It helps me when I understand and accept that I am rarely the agent or controller of significant change in my life. That most significant changes seem to come about in their own time and as a result of a wide variety of "causes" -- including actions I take, adjustments I make in my attitudes, changes in my habits and diet and routines, and a whole bunch of other "outside factors" totally outside of my control or influence.

So it's no longer a question of whether I have to change or not. Change is really not an option for me or anyone else. Change is a fact of life. It happens regardless of my belief in or attitude about it. The more important question and/or challenge for me is how I am going to participate in this changing body and world. Am I going to go with the flow or am I going to swim upstream? Both are options available to me and either one might the the right approach at any one time in my life. I think this is all the hidden truth in the Serenity Prayer: accepting what we cannot change, changing what we can and knowing the difference between what we can/can't change.

There are certain things that are unchangeable: past events are what they are and I can't change them. I can though, change my attitude toward past events: I can learn from them, I can be resentful over them, I can accept them, I can be grateful for them. But I can't change the fact of them. I also can't change the future: because it doesn't exist anywhere. Feelings also seem to fall into this category of things that can't be changed: they just are what they are. That said, I would point out that feelings do change, they are not static or life long. What I need to remember with feelings is that "I'm" not the agent of change in terms of feelings. They will change in their own course: I just need to be aware of them, listen to them and avoid acting on them until that can be done with kindness (or at least, without harm).

And lastly, there are some things that I can change sometimes but not all times. My wife is a great example of that. I can sometimes bring about changes (pleasant or not) in her by my words and actions. But in other ways, I am totally powerless to change who she is or what she feels. Just like I am totally powerless to change who I am or what I feel.

Change does not scare me like it used to do both before and after getting sober. Change is actually what's making my life exciting, interesting, challenging and meaning-filled.

Take care!

Mike L.

The Last Roadblock to AA

2009-06-23T16:12:00.000-07:00

I've been watching several people hovering around their bottom recently and it's given me an opportunity to remember back to the time just before I was struck sober and what was going through my mind when I was becoming truly convinced that I was totally incapable of stopping drinking. I remember the time well.

I was totally isolated and alone. Take that back: I was isolated, but I was rarely alone. There were people all about me during most of my days: at work, at home, my wife, my kids. No friends though. There were people all around me though: but I didn't connect with a single one of them at any point in my day. I was totally isolated in my "self" --- I was constantly thinking of when the next opportunity to drink would present itself and what I could do to make that opportunity happen sooner rather than later.

This state of affairs was most painful in two areas: my relationship with my wife and my relationship with my son Pat. My wife and I had been married for about 20 years at that time and there was a part of me that needed and wanted to confide in her what was going on with me. But I simply couldn't. If I told her anything even close to the truth about what was going on with me, it would eventually lead to her coming to the door which led to my drinking. I couldn't tell her how depressed and unhappy I was because she'd want to help me get help. But I was already getting the help I thought I needed and had to have: alcohol. Her kind of help would probably be a therapist any therapist would eventually ask me why I didn't stop drinking and when I answered (should I actually tell the truth---which would be unlikely) with "I can't" he'd naturally conclude that I was an alcoholic and that I needed to do something about that. Like Stop Drinking!

The hell of my existence though was that I couldn't tell people that I couldn't stop drinking because as soon as I did that they'd naturally expect me to....stop drinking! Fuck!!!

So I didn't really talk to my wife for those ten months before I got sober. I mean to talked to her, but I never said anything of significance or truth in terms of what was going on in my head or heart.

In terms of my relationship with my son, who was just beginning his own recovery from his addiction to drugs, it was almost as painful, if not more, as my (non-)relationship with my wife. I'd take him to and from his meetings almost every day between January 2008 and the time of my getting struck sober. While he was in the meetings, I was supposed (so my wife thought) to stay parked outside to wait for him and to make sure that he stayed in the meeting. The trust level between us and Pat was at an all time low.

But it was clear to me that Pat was really trying to get and stay clean and sober. Although there were many relapses in those first 4 months of 2008, something clicked on May 10, 2008 and he's been clean and sober since. But back then, I rationalized with myself that sitting outside of the meetings waiting for Pat and checking to make sure he stayed in the meetings was somehow "disloyal" and "un-trusting" of Pat. So I used that rationalization to make it OK to drive off and find a bar where I could drink while he was in the meetings. Perfect solution to all my problems.

That system worked until it didn't work. Toward the end, I was feeling more and more isolated and in pain. In the short time periods that I was able to drink without getting caught, I wasn't able to get enough alcohol in me to take away the pain. In those first ten months of 2008, I think I only really got dizzying drunk maybe three or four times (typically when I was away from home, but not always).

Toward the end, I would be sitting outside my son's meetings "wishing" that I could go in there and get better like he was getting better. What kept me from doing that? Well, that's the major roadblock that I found blocking my entry into the rooms of AA. The roadblock was that I got it in my head that the people in "those rooms" were people who could stop drinking and that I couldn't go into those rooms until I could stop drinking. That thought kept me out of AA for some days and weeks.

Ultimately what happened was that I woke up one morning after Pat had almost caught me drinking and as soon as I woke up I realized once again that I simply couldn't stop drinking. But for some reason, I then realized that "not being able to stop drinking" IS ALCOHOLISM! And that alcoholism is a disease. It's not my fault. It's just the way things turned out to be. What happened that morning is I truly and completely accepted the truth of my alcoholism and instead of continuing to "try to stop drinking" I began a new strategy: I began trying to stay sober, one day at a time.

That's when the roadblock disappeared for me. I didn't go to AA for another few days because I had some business to take care of first: (1) I needed to tell my wife what had been going on and what I was going to do about it and (2) I needed to tell my son the same thing. Both accepted me without condition and I then went to my first meeting of AA.

I didn't realize for some months what my last roadblock was and I still remember the day and the meeting that this realization came about. I was sitting in a meeting and that morning a young woman came in and raised her hand as being in her first 30 days....again. She'd been a part of that meeting for some time apparently and I could see the shame written all over her face when I said that she'd drank again and was back. I watched her during the whole meeting and I was searching for something I could say that might help her. Toward the end of the meeting I discovered what it was: she was ashamed because she couldn't stop drinking and because she was thinking that the rest of us in that room were able to stop drinking! So I raised my hand and welcomed her back and told her that she wasn't alone in this room, that she wasn't the only person in the room who couldn't stop drinking: because I couldn't, no, I can't stop drinking either! I can't stop drinking either.

Even though I was some months sober, I still perceive myself to be someone who can't stop drinking. What keeps me sober is (1) remembering that I can't stop drinking and (2) that I can try to stay sober today. That strategy had worked then for several months and it's still working today.

Take care!

Mike L.

The Step's Hidden Principles

2009-06-20T18:29:00.000-07:00

We've all heard many times the last seven words of the 12th step, "practice these principles on all our affairs" --- but has anyone seriously asked, "What principles?" I suspect most if not all but me members of AA assume (which is to conclude without having asked the question) that the "principles" are equal to the preceding 11 or 12 "steps."

Well, I don't think so. And anyone who knows me will not be shocked. I haven't had a conforming thought for my entire life! I think that the principles are something more than the steps. I think that they are something different for each of us and we discover what these principles are by working or, better yet, being worked by these steps. The principles are hidden deep within and are meant to be discovered.

I remember once being at a meeting at the California state capital building one Friday noontime and the speaker shared with us a little wallet-sized card that listed the 12 Principles of AA's Steps. Someone had given it to him years before and he passed it around for each of us to look. I remember that I was so overjoyed that someone had discovered specifically what the damned principles were that were alluded to in the ending of the 12th step. Until that time, I had always held a resentment that Bill did not explicitly state what these principles were. In my mind, I thought that he should have included a parenthetical comment at the end of each step and summarized the principle for each step. The card listed 12 principles corresponding to each Step: Step 1 was Acceptance. Step 2 was Faith. Step 3 was Surrender/Trust.

I wrote them all down on the back of a checking account deposit slip and I've kept it in my wallet ever since. I'm not going to list them here because I eventually came to believe that this list has absolutely no "authority". It wasn't, as far as I know, something that Bill Wilson later wrote down or that has been adopted by the AA Fellowship. More importantly, I realized that what I was searching for, the authoritative list of AA principles, did not, could not and should not exist.

The unnamed principles referred to in the 12th step are known only to those who have worked these steps. Remember, this list on page 59 of "How It Works" -- which summarizes the 12 Steps of AA --- begins with the statement, "Here are the steps we took which are suggested as a program of recovery." As it says in the pamphlet, "A Member's Eye View of AA" these are not "commandments to be followed but reports of action taken."

The summarized list cannot list static statements of principles because these principles are different for each person working each step. The principles should not be definitively listed because that would only mislead those who've yet to take these steps. If you want to learn the principle underneath the 1st step, then you must work that step. You don't have to work that step or any other step: remember, it's only suggested that you work the steps. But if you want to know the principle underneath or within any of these steps, you must work them. It will do you no good to be told what the principles are: you must work these steps before you will know these principles. And you must know these principles, before you can practice them in all your affairs.

I think I came to understand this whole philosophy of the steps very early in my recovery. I somehow discovered that the steps were something I needed to do honestly and without compromise. I needed to work them without pretending. Without faking it. Ok, there's really no mystery for me as to how I came to understand this rather unique view of how to work the steps. It was all a direct result of having encountered a man named Dr. Earle. He gave me that freedom. He taught me, with his actions, the "no bullshit program of AA."

Today, I heard some one's story and I was profoundly struck at how much emphasis she has come to place on the 1st Step in her own program of recovery. She's been in (and out) of AA for 15 to 20 years and is now celebrating 6 months of continuous sobriety. In the room, her younger brother sat and listened to his sister --- he'd never been to that meeting before and he was truly surprised when his sister went up to sit at the table in order to share her story with us. He too has been in (and out) of AA for almost as long as his sister and I suspect from the carefully chosen words he used during his comments this afternoon, that he has something less than 6 months of continuous sobriety.

Anyway, as she shared her story today, she talked about the importance of the 1st step in her program today. A half-measured 1st step has apparently been something that has repeatedly tripped her up in her attempts to get and stay sober. While there were periods of time, months and sometimes years, where she would seem to "get it" --- there had always come a moment when she'd forget...and then she'd drink and/or use...or use and/or drink. But, she had always come back to AA. She has been a persistent one and it was a pure joy to listen to her today.

At some point in her share, she mentioned something I'd never heard before and that was the "Three 'A's of AA: Awareness, Acceptance and Action". For her, all three were important in her working of the 1st step: becoming aware of who she is as an alcoholic, accepting who she is as an alcoholic and acting on or in conformity with that awareness.

Although I doubt she understands this, I'm looking back at her share this afternoon realizing that she's coming to understand the principles hidden in her 1st step: awareness, acceptance and action. And I can certainly identify these same principles in my 1st step: waking up one morning and becoming aware, once again, that "I can't stop drinking!" And then, for some reason, carrying that Step Zero thought one step further, I became aware that "Not being able to stop drinking is called 'alcoholism' --- that alcoholism is a disease and I just happen to have it!" That awareness was then followed, in a nanosecond, by the utter and penetrating acceptance that having this dis-ease was perfectly OK! Ahhhh!

The action for me is sort of odd in that I did it without moving my body. The action occurred that morning when imagined myself sitting in a big circle of people at my son's recovery program. It was at one of the Thursday night "Multi-Family Group" sessions. I'd been going to these Multi-Family Groups for about 10 months as my son was beginning his recovery and as I was falling farther and farther into my disease.

The parents of the kids who were in the Adolescent Chemical Dependency Program would sit in a circle, along with their recovering ones, as well as any other siblings who wished to join us for these sessions. The sessions were designed for us to talk about whatever was going on in our families as we were attempting to support the member of our family who was trying to get/stay clean and sober. At the beginning of these sessions, we'd start off by going around the room and we'd check in. Checking in for the parents meant saying along these lines: "I'm Mike, I'm here for my son Pat and we have had (or have not had...as the case may have been) a clean and sober house this past week. And I do (don't) have something to talk about tonight." If we did have something to talk about, the leader would make note of that and then the next person would check in.

Checking in for the recovering addicts meant saying, "I'm Pat and I'm an addict. I've been clean for X days/months. I haven't smoked cigarettes for 15 minutes (this program wanted the addicts to also stay nicotine free for 90 days in order to "graduate" from the program--my son, with his sponsors and parent's support, decided early on that staying free of alcohol and other drugs was big enough of a challenge at this point in his life without having to worry about dying of cancer later on... He'd deal with that later.). And I do (or don't) have something to talk about tonight.

For the past ten months, I'd lied every time I checked in to that Thursday night meeting. I lied when I said that we had a clean and sober household. It was a lie, not because of my son; it was my lie because there were only a handful of days/nights during those ten months when I walked into our house without alcohol in my body. But the morning of October 20, 2001 --- something different happened if only in my mind.

After waking up to the awareness of my incapacity to stop drinking and the acceptance of this physiological disease of mine --- I took the action of checking in to this imaginary group of people and raised my hand and said, "My name is Mike and I'm an alcoholic." When I took that action, albeit in my mind while laid there next to my sleeping wife of 20 years, something miraculous happened. I experienced a freedom from the obsessions (1) to drink and (2) to not be an alcoholic like my dad, that had plagued me for 30 years. I was free. While I couldn't stop drinking, I could try to stay sober one day at a time.

I floated in that freedom for three days before I attended my first meeting of AA. The first two days were just simple bliss, but I began to realize that this gift of sobriety was something very fragile. It wasn't the result of my thinking or figuring something out. It was a gift and I needed to nurture it. I quickly understood that I needed to do what my son had been doing. I shared my truth with my wife on the following Monday night---had I shared that with anyone before her would have hurt her even more deeply than the real daily betrayals I had been making with her in terms of my drinking for the last ten months.

After sharing this truth with my wife, I then shared this truth with my son who was then 5 months and 10 days ahead of me in this journey of recovery. His reaction my confession of absolute failure as a father and human being was astounding: "Gee, Dad, this is Great! We're both addicts!" I shook my head in disbelief and told him that although I wasn't all that thrilled about being an addict, I was overwhelmed with joy over the fact that we were going to be able to share our recovery with one another. Sharing that recovery wasn't something that I was able to do with my own father (he'd died of alcoholism some years before) but that I could share it with him was the best thing that had ever happened to me in my entire life. Then I took my son to his NA meeting and I went on to my first meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous.

The principles of my 1st step now include Awareness, Acceptance and Action. What an amazing program!

Take care!

Mike L.

14th Dumbest Thing I've Heard in an AA Meeting

2009-06-15T15:55:00.001-07:00

Some time ago, I wrote a blog entitled "The Top 10 Dumb Things I've Heard in AA"
http://mikelrecovery.blogspot.com/2007/12/top-10-dumb-things-ive-heard-in-aa.html and in that blog I listed 13 of what I consider to be the dumbest things I've heard in AA since becoming a part of AA in 2001. Recently, I decided that I'd heard my 14th when I heard several sponsors talking about relapses by their sponsees. The so-called AA wisdom that they passed on to me basically says that if a sponsee of yours relapses, just ask yourself if you (the sponsor) drank. If not, then somehow you're still a sponsor in good standing.

While I certainly agree with the sentiment that I'm not responsible for a sponsee's getting sober (or drunk), I'm not at all sure I want to buy into the dispassionate distancing of myself from the various feelings I experience when I hear of a sponsee's relapse---or anyone else's relapse for that matter.

I recently did have a sponsee relapse after about 18 days of sobriety and when he called me during that relapse, I remember feeling a heightened sense of being alert, that this was important and that I should choose my words carefully so as to be as helpful as I could to this man. He'd begun drinking that afternoon and had several beers before deciding to call me. He was absolutely devastated that he'd drank and for some miraculous reason, decided to call me and talk about what was going on. I felt a tremendous amount of compassion for him. I felt some of the pain and agony that he was experiencing. I connected with the shame and guilt that he was feeling: I'm sure that I would have experienced something similar.

He's gotten sober since and although it was quite rough on him for the first week or two, he seems to be back on track now. Most of his struggles during those first two weeks were dealing with the self-imposed shame and guilt that he was feeling in terms of having somehow let us (those of us in AA) all down by drinking. He had a hard time raising his hand for awhile...but that hurdle seems to be something of the past now.

I struggled with him all through this ordeal, trying to find the right words that would help him move forward and not get bogged down in self-pity or isolation or "too much" despair (in my experience, there's a certain amount of despair that is required to let go of some old ideas....and there's a fine line indeed between that amount and the amount which leads to suicide).

I know that I'm susceptible to being too attached or co-dependent of my sponsees or other alcoholics. But I'm be damned if I'm going to play it safe in this life by detaching so much from other suffering alcoholics that I cut myself off from feeling the full range of feelings if and when one of them drinks again. I care for them and all other suffering alcoholics. I'm not going to hide behind some sort of flippant resort to take my own sobriety as the litmus test of how well I'm doing today.

True, my own sobriety is most important to me. But I'm not an isolated being any more. I feel connected to people again. Sometimes that hurts. That's perfectly OK. In fact, it's greaaaat!

Take care!

Mike L.

AA began before Dr. Bob's Last Relapse

2009-06-14T10:24:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I blogged about my thoughts about when AA began and how I am of the opinion that it began the day Bill Wilson almost drank again after having stayed sober for about 6 months. Instead of drinking that day, he decided to try to find another drunk to help get and stay sober. Because of that decision, I think AA came about. Because of that decision, he eventually went over to a stranger's house and sat at the man's table to try and help that man, Dr. Bob Smith, find a solution to his problem. The same problem that Bill had: alcoholism.

At that kitchen table, two men shared their stories and began to talk about the solution that was only in it's earliest infancy. The solution centered around staying sober one day at a time and helping another alcoholic get and stay sober.

But in yesterday's blog, I didn't talk about the most important reason I have for considering the date of that kitchen table encounter between Bill and Dr. Bob as the beginning of Alcoholics Anonymous. And that's because subsequent to that meeting, Dr. Bob, co-founder of AA, found it necessary to take another drink. Subsequent to that first meeting with Bill, Dr. Bob made a trip to Atlantic City for some sort of convention and during that trip he began drinking again. And he showed back up in Akron some days later drunk as a skunk and humiliated.

But there again was Bill, reaching out a hand to help a suffering alcoholic. Apparently, that drunk was Dr. Bob's most successful drunk ever because it led him to begin a new day with the hope that he could stay sober one more day. Strangely, from our perspective 74 years later, because Dr. Bob was scheduled to perform surgery the afternoon he returned from Atlantic City, he was shaking so badly from the withdrawal from alcohol, that Bill decided to give his co-founder a glass of beer to sooth his nerves and hands enough that he could perform that surgery with steady hands (and beer breath---I don't think they had Tic Tacs back then).

But the first thing these two guys did was set out on a path of action: no study of the Big Book or working of 12 Steps for them (since neither existed at that time). Nope, their program of action was the same that Bill latched on to in the lobby of the hotel just a few days prior: they had to find another drunk to help.

I personally feel it's important to acknowledge that one of our co-founders saw it necessary to drink again and that he survived that drink and went on to live out his remaining years sober and, critically important to that sobriety, helping thousands of other drunks get and stay sober. Dr. Bob is something of the Patron Saint of those who drink again after getting sober the first time. So those of you who feel overwhelmed with shame and guilt over having relapsed, take heart: you are not alone and, in fact, you're in some really great company.

Take care!

Mike L.

AA's Beginning at a Kitchen Table

2009-06-13T14:11:00.000-07:00

Over the last week or so, several people have asserted in meetings that June 10th was AA's 74th Birthday. And this has been irritating me no end. First of all, AA's not a human being, so it doesn't have a "birth" day --- it has an Anniversary. Second of all, and more importantly, while most people consider June 10, 1935 as the day AA began, that's not necessarily the case. While June 10, 1935 is the day that Dr. Bob got sober and stayed sober, that doesn't necessarily make it the beginning date of AA. In fact, there have been at least two people who would argue that AA began somewhat earlier than June 10, 1935. And while those two people differ in terms of what day AA actually began, they both agree that AA began at a kitchen table.

The first guy that I'm talking about is Ebby Thatcher. He believed that Alcoholics Anonymous had its real beginning when he went to visit his drunk friend Bill Wilson to share with him his new found sobriety. A sobriety that Ebby had found through the Oxford Groups. Ebby reached out to another drunk because reaching out to others was somehow a part of his staying sober. When he and Bill sat down at the Wilson's kitchen table, Bill noticed that something had changed with his formerly drunk friend Ebby and he eventually was devastated to learn that Ebby's solution to his drinking problems was to "get religion." Bill's devastation came because if religion was the solution, then he was doomed. Ebby would have difficulty actually staying sober over the remaining years of his life and it's reported that he held on to a resentment toward both Bill Wilson and Dr. Bob because they were elevated to the status as "C0-Founders" of AA and Ebby was left behind without such distinction or honor.

The second guy that I referred to above is me. While I don't think I'm the only one who believes that there's a beginning to AA that does not fall on June 10, 1935, I'm the only one talking about this right now. In my mind, the beginning of AA came about some weeks before Dr. Bob's getting sober on June 10, 1935: the real beginning occurred before Dr. Bob's last relapse, when he and Bill Wilson met and talked for several hours sitting at the Smith's kitchen table in Akron, Ohio. That meeting was, in my less than humble opinion, the real beginning of Alcoholics Anonymous.

When Bill Wilson made his business trip to Akron, Ohio he was about 6 months sober. His sobriety program included, among other things, the key ingredient of trying to help other alcoholics recover from their shared disease. The business deal fell through and in a moment of despair Bill found himself standing in the lobby of his hotel not knowing what to do: everything he'd worked for had failed, not only his business ventures, but also every attempt he'd made to help other alcoholics. None, other than him, had been able to stay sober. Standing there in complete despair, he looked at the door leading into the bar and he heard the voices and laughter and the tinkling of glasses. He thought about going in for just a soda -- maybe that would help bring him out of this doldrums. But for some reason, he had a second thought and that was the thought that eventually brought about the beginning of AA: "I need to find a drunk!". He knew that if he was to stay sober that day, he had to find another drunk to try and help.

That's when he say a sign in the lobby that listed various churches and phone numbers. He called several and eventually got hold of a woman who answered his call: He explained to her that he was an alcoholic and that he had been sober six months. He explained that he needed to find another drunk to help in order that he could stay sober. While she was not an alcoholic, this woman was part of a group of people (the Oxford Group again...) who included one member who seemed to fit Bill's requirements and that drunk was Dr. Bob Smith. The woman called Dr. Bob and he agreed to come over to her house and sit down with Bill for fifteen minutes---but no longer.

Bill went over to the woman's house and sat down with Dr. Bob at their kitchen table (not sure if that's factually true, but for now, humor me...) and they talked and listened to one another for hours. For both men, they identified with each other and their struggles with alcohol. They also identified with the inability to stop drinking and staying stopped. And Dr. Bob was taken with Bill's idea that the secret to staying sober was trying to help other alcoholics get and stay sober. Even though Dr. Bob drank again, on a business trip of his own, I still consider the date of these two men sitting down at the Smith's kitchen table as the real beginning of Alcoholics Anonymous. In fact, I think that the fact that Dr. Bob drank again after this encounter with Bill Wilson is actually the most important argument for treating this kitchen date as AA's Anniversary! You see, the secret that they'd discovered---helping another alcoholic in order to stay sober---actually worked! Bill stayed sober. And eventually, Dr. Bob did too! And because the two of them committed themselves to this new AA adventure (ok, I know that they made this commitment on June 10, 1935!) this weird organization called AA came about and continues to this day.

I realize that in an organization's development, there are all sorts of various milestones and key events that lead to the organization's coming about and all are important in the overall process. But for me, lone wolf that I am, the key event in the coming about of AA was most clearly the day these two men sat down and shared their stories with one another. Had that not happened, it's not at all clear that AA as we know it would have come about. And if AA hadn't come about, I'm not at all sure I'd be sober today. Although, who knows: there are many kitchen tables out there and many struggling alcoholics. Who's to say that two other people---maybe even a woman!---wouldn't eventually have done the same thing that Bill and Bob did.

Take care! And Happy Anniversary fellow AAers, whatever day you want to celebrate it.

Mike L.

The Object of Our Focus

2009-06-07T09:27:00.000-07:00

In several recent meetings, people have been talking about their struggles with getting rid of defects of character. It's coming not so much from those new in the process, but from those with quite a few years. I've never been a big fan of this whole issue of defects of characters and I've written about that before, so won't repeat it here. What I haven't talked about though, is how I approach those things in me that I don't particularly like or which seem to cause me and/or others harm or hurt.

My approach, like most things AA, is not really original. I first learned about this technique by reading Dr. Paul O's story in the Big Book (Acceptance is the Answer) and seeing how he dealt with these defects in himself and in others by not focusing on them, but rather, focusing on what's good in others and in himself. He described this as his "magnifying mind" --- whatever he focused on got bigger. If he focused on his wife's weaknesses, it was the weaknesses that would grow and multiply. If, on the other hand though, he focused on the good qualities in his wife, those qualities seemed to magically grow. In fact, they grew so much that they seemed to annihilate the negative traits that used to occupy all his waking moments. He found the same thing to be true in terms of how he looked at himself: if he focused on the negative, the negative grew. If he focused on the positive, the positive grew.

I also learned about this different approach to living from Dr. Earle (also an author of one of the stories in the Big Book, Physician Heal Thyself). He too was not a big fan of the defect of character bandwagon in AA and didn't spend much time at all talking about such rubbish. He encouraged newcomers to not rush into the 4th/5th step process --- to hold off on that until at least a year of being sober. He felt that most of us were sufficiently convinced of how horrible we were as human beings that we didn't need to devote excessive energy in early recovery on giving more strength to such self-loathing and self-hatred. Of course, if someone had something really bothering them and weighing them down, he'd always make himself available to talk that stuff out so that it didn't drag us down into a dark hole---but for the most part, he suggested that people focus on healing their bodies, getting connected with others in recovery and getting settled in the "not drinking" part of the program.

In my own early recovery, I bought into the popular AA logic in terms of expending much energy trying to change myself and my surroundings and relationships. Tried to repair years of damage in a single bound only to cause even more harm and hurt. Eventually, I was convinced that that was not working and worse than not working, it was causing more harm. I became willing to try another way and that's when I started trying to develop the new habits of being kind toward myself and others, trying not to tear myself and others down by judgments and condemnation, trying to find compassion for myself and others.

Eventually, I started seeing that each of my so-called "defects" were like coins: they all had at least two sides. The side that I had always seen as the bad, negative and painful side. But they also had another side to them which seemed to balance things out for me: the other side was the good and the whole. Alcoholism is the best example of one of the coins: the negative side was easy (too easy) for me to see and document. But the positive side put things in balance: were I not an alcoholic, I would not have all that I have in my life right now: my recovery, my relationship with my son, my wife and other children. None of those relationships would be as deep and real as they are were it not for the fact that I am an alcoholic in recovery. And I wouldn't be an alcoholic in recovery if I had not been an alcoholic in my disease. Both sides of that coin are absolutely necessary, and therefore, good.

So in the end, I've come to see so-called defects of character not as cancerous growths requiring surgical removal. I see them more as leaves on the tree of my life: each and every one has a reason and a purpose. And each and everyone one of them will eventually serve it's purpose and will eventually fall to the ground. I don't need to rip them off: they will fall when it's their time.

My life goes though cycles of growth, hibernation, death and rebirth. Everything is perfect. Everything has been perfect. Everything will be perfect. Just the way it is.

Take care!

Mike L.

Alcoholic's Greatest Problem and Greatest Solution: The Ego

2009-06-06T12:22:00.001-07:00

As I've mentioned in other recent blogs, two of my friends in AA have recently relapsed and while both are sober again each seem to be having their own struggles with the fact that they relapsed and with coming back into the rooms of AA and raising their hands, disclosing that they are once again in their 1st 30 days of sobriety.

I remember once listening to an old, now deceased, circuit speaker named Chuck Chamberlain. In his pitch, he said that the greatest problem and the greatest solution for the alcoholic was the Ego. Then he laughed and asked, "What's the Ego? Well, the best definition I've ever heard for ego is "The conscious feeling of being separate from. Separate from what? Separate from other people, separate from things, separate from God, separate from ourselves." When he wrote his book, which seems to be a verbatim transcription of his standard pitch, he included a drawing of this ego: it was a little stick figure (representing "me") standing alone and outside a big circle. Inside the circle were the words, "God, Other People, Things, Ourself".

I was immediately taken with this view of a person's total isolation and loneliness. Totally disconnected from anyone and anything. Alone. That was me toward the end of my drinking. Isolated and Alone. I couldn't let anyone "in" or within touching distance because I simply couldn't accept myself for who I had become: a drunk just like my dad.

Chuck C. refers to this isolated and lonely existence as the result of an unhealthy Ego. This sort of ego is one that separates us from others and from ourselves. For the alcoholic, it spells death because it's an existence that's provides the disease of alcoholism full reign over our body and choices. I understood immediately why Chuck characterized this as the alcoholic's greatest problem.

What was never clear to me though is what Chuck meant by his comment that the ego was also the source of the alcoholic's ultimate solution. It didn't seem to make sense and I listened to his tape multiple times trying to find out where he explained this strange and perplexing concept. I also bought his book and couldn't find any answers. So, I've made up my own.

The way I understand this healthy ego is by considering several concepts used in AA for a long time now: the deflation of the ego or ego deflation, and getting right-sized. Some people seem to take the approach that the ego is bad and must be demolished or annihilated. What little psychology I've had tells me that the ego is a essential component of being human. The unhealthy ego, it seems, is the sense of self that extends beyond who I really am and is used to keep others from getting close to or hurting "me". The healthy ego though, is more right-sized in some way and is not used to keep others away as it is to keep a healthy boundary between me and others. It accepts that human be-ing means getting close to others, touching, hurt, pain, love. It permits connection without loss of self.

A healthy ego does not cringe when someone gives them a compliment or expresses admiration. A healthy ego does not need to put others down in order to make themselves feel better or superior. A healthy ego can accomplish a moral inventory without over-exaggerating the good or the bad. In fact, the healthy ego doesn't have much use for such distinctions between good and bad. Whatever is, is. We see things clearly and try to find ways to do better in the future.

For the alcoholic, the healthy ego is one that accepts the truth of addiction and all its ramifications. It looks back to past actions when we were drinking and sees things for what they are. It sees the compulsion and the obsession underneath the behavior. It sees the craving, the need for more and more and more. It understands the need for abstinence. It understands the permanent and progressive nature of this disease and what will happen should I put alcohol or other mind-altering drugs in my body.

The healthy ego also has the ability to feel compassion toward others who share this disease, both when they are drinking and when they are striving to get and remain sober. The healthy ego has the ability to empathize with other alcoholics, to identify and connect with another person's struggles, confusion and fears. They can say with total honesty and compassion, "I understand. I've been there. Here, let me help you. There is a solution. Let's find it. You don't have to do this alone."

Take care!

Mike L.

Relapse and Raising One's Hand Again

2009-05-31T23:38:00.001-07:00

I've had two experiences dealing with friends relapsing this weekend, one was a sponsee who had worked hard and well to achieve 18 or 19 days before he drank today and the other was a guy who I'd known for awhile at one of my meetings--I'm not sure how much time he actually had as he rarely talked in meetings and I only knew him in passing--but he began drinking a few days ago and called me Saturday morning asking for help.

My sponsee called me tonight after he'd had a few beers---not enough to be really drunk, but enough to begin feeling a horrible on rush of shame over what he'd done. For some reason, he called me before taking his next drink or before going out to buy more alcohol. I took that as something of a miracle---the more expected/normal thing for someone to do after relapsing would be to go ahead and give themselves the go ahead and get really fucked up because they'd already broken the "first drink" barrier. But he called me instead.

The other guy had been drinking for two days and by 10am Saturday, he was already quite well on his way for a third day of drinking. Again, the miracle: he began reaching out to people he knew and had phone numbers for. When I took his call, I was at my daughter's house begin a long day of planting flowers and getting her house ready for a family party next weekend for my other daughter (the recent graduate). Not something I could walk away from. But when he called, I walked off to the side of the house and talked to him for about 10-15 minutes. He was at home and it appeared to be a safe place. His wife was on the way there to be with him as was someone else from AA who was taking off from work to be with him. I asked him to try to help them find all of his alcohol (or anything else) and get it removed from the house. I suggested that he avoid beating himself up for what he'd done, try to not put more alcohol in his body and once he'd sobered up enough, to get himself to a meeting. That's when he told me that he was terrified to raise his hand. He was embarrassed and felt he had let us down. He didn't think he could raise his hand again.

That was the same fear that was going through my sponsee: he was fearing tomorrow's noon meeting and raising his hand. He'd been feeling so good the last two weeks! He'd not been able to string 1 or 2 days before this recent run of almost three weeks. He was so close to being able to "not have to raise his hand anymore!".

I'm not sure either one of these guys understood what I tried to share with them: either because they were still somewhat drunk or because I think this is a hard concept for even sober alcoholics to understand:

I'm not most afraid of drinking again. I suspect that that may very well happen to me at some point in my life, maybe even multiple times. Who knows. I certainly don't want that to happen. I can't even imagine how it would happen. But I know that it could happen. And while I'm afraid of that happening, there's one thing that scares the shit out of me far more than the possibility of me drinking again: and that's that were I to drink again, I fear that I would be too ashamed to come back into a meeting of AA and raise my hand as a newcomer---or more accurately---as someone in my first meeting after my last drink. That's what I fear most.

The fear that I might drink is a real fear because I don't really know for sure what will happen as a result of that first drink. I suspect all sorts of bad stuff, but I don't know for sure. The fear that I would be too ashamed to come back into AA and begin the process again: that's a more dreaded fear because I do know the result of that: all sorts of bad stuff and no real hope of getting sober or staying alive.

For me, I've found it worthwhile to work through both of these fears so that they are not so frightful. I've accepted that alcoholics, even recovering ones who work good programs, will sometimes drink. I'm not shocked when that happens. I'm actually more shocked that it doesn't happen more often!

I've also come to the awareness that the night on October 23, 2001, when I walked into my first meeting after my last drink and raised my hand and said, "My name is Mike and I'm an alcoholic." that that was the best night of my entire life. And now, seven and a half wonderful years later, that same night is still the best night of my entire life. Were it not for that night, nothing that followed could have happened and nothing that came before it could have come to provide the foundation for so much growth and healing.

So, were I ever to drink again, I'd pray and hope that I would be able to get a second chance to raise my hand and give this life of sobriety another shot.

I hope my two friends come to understand this strange fact of recovery. I suspect their life may depend on it.

Take care!

Mike L.