I'm not ready yet....

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.

Sponsoring Others: When Do I Stop Raising My Hand?

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.

What Advice Would You Give Sergio?

I was watching the Masters golf tournament this last weekend and happened to catch an interview with Ben Crenshaw, a two time Masters champion. Someone asked Ben Crenshaw what advice he would give to the young Sergio Garcia, a relatively young golfer who appears to have all it takes to be a great golfer but who has yet to reach his full potential and who is now apparently struggling most of all with his putting game.

Ben reflected on the question and then said that he thinks Sergio is a great golfer and that his only advice would be to tell Sergio the same thing his teacher once told him. Ben's teacher was a old guy named Harvey Penick. Ben said that Harvey's greatest advice to him was when he told Ben, "You need to start swinging like Ben Crenshaw." That is, you need to stop trying to swing like other golfers. No matter how good they are, they are good because they are swinging like they do. You can't be great by trying to imitate someone else's swing. So, Ben's advice to Sergio was, "You need to putt like Sergio Garcia!"

I was really struck by the love Ben Crenshaw had for this man Harvey Penick, his teacher. My sponsor told me tonight that when Ben Crenshaw won his second Masters tournament, that Harvey Penick had died just a week before that tournament. After winning that Masters, Ben broke down and sobbed when he tried to talk about how much this meant to him and that all during the tournament, he felt that Harvey was his 15th club. He was there with him.

I was equally struck by the obvious and deep love Harvey Penick had for Ben Crenshaw, his student. It appears not to have been the stereotypical teacher/student relationship where the teacher had all the answers and the student just needed to do what he was told and to swing in the right way. No. This teacher --- this Master --- was one who simply wanted his student to be the best "them" that they could be and there was no preconceived concept of what "that" might be. It was a mystery for the student to discover.

My sponsors have all been Penick-like in their approach to this recovery process and to sponsorship. None of them see themselves as "possessors of the truth" which must somehow be passed down to the ignorant newcomer. They all see themselves as people with their own story and who've been able to learn the skill of listening to other people's stories, tremendously well. They never seemed to be teaching "truth" -- but simply listened and then shared with me a story that seemed to "fit." And their stories always seemed to fit. Like a well worn glove.

I'm feeling particularly grateful this night for the gifts I've been given in the form of Earle, Dave and Russ. My Harvey Penicks.

Take care!

Mike L.

Angels and the 12th Step

On Sunday morning, I went to my favorite Step meeting where we tackled the last half of the 12th step in the 12x12. Because that chapter is so long and covers so much, this group covers it in two meetings instead of one. The woman who shared her story afterward, I'll call her Dee, was asked to chair the meeting because she was celebrating her 4th year of sobriety and the secretary wanted Dee to share her story with her AA family. What struck me most about her chair was how Dee talked so poignantly about the shame she carried into these meetings over four years ago---when she drank into oblivion one night and then passed out between her two sleeping kids. That shame.

The next day, as Dee sat at her desk at school, another teacher who Dee knew to be a recovering alcoholic, appeared at the door and asked how Dee was doing. Dee looked up from her desk and saw this other teacher as an "angel" --- Dee told her she had a problem with drinking and asked for help. The angel helped her get to her first meeting and begin down a path of recovery. In the early days of AA these angels were called sponsors: the ones who helped us get in the doors of AA.

This story touched my heart deeply, but before I could talk, another friend of mine who has maybe 15 or so years sober, raised his hand because he too was touched deeply by this story.
He's not typically one to get emotional, but Sunday, he almost lost it before he got three words out of his mouth. It doesn't matter what he said--in fact, I can't remember what he said--all I remember though was that this woman's story touched him to his core. Just as it had me.

I really don't remember much from this meeting because my mind was reeling during most of the meeting---remembering back to a time when I was in my early 20s. I had finished my four years in the Navy and for a variety of reasons had decided to become a Catholic priest. Toward that end, I became a member of a religious order called the Jesuits. Before I actually entered the Jesuits though, I spent a summer at a Jesuit retreat house in Los Altos, California called El Retiro.

That summer, I spent reading and walking and meditating on what I was planning to do with my life. While I was there, I met several amazing Jesuit priests. One older priest was quite strange though: he was brilliant, had a photogenic memory (could not only quote lines from books he'd read years ago but could go grab the book from amongst this shelves and stacks of books and could go straight to the page where that quote was located), was a very popular spiritual director to what seemed to be hundreds of women (religious and lay) a fact which struck me as odd because this priest seemed, certainly at first glance, a rather gruff and angry man (but they flocked to him regardless), and last of all, he was a fanatic about watching Mission Impossible every week. He loved Mission Impossible because, as he said, all those technical gadgets used on that show "actually exist!" Anyway, I got close to this guy over the months.

Anyway, this recent Sunday after Dee's chair, I remembered back to one night when they were having some sort of anniversary celebration for the El Retiro retreat house and had invited a lot of their donors to share in the celebration with mass, drinks and dinner. One couple who attended was a former nun and former priest who had both left religious life, fallen in love and gotten married some years before. They came to the celebration that night with their young daughter who was maybe 2 years old and the only child at the event. I saw right away that the girl was out of place and bored, so I offered to babysit her during all the events that evening. And with the blessing of the old crotchety Jesuit Mission Impossible fanatic, the parents agreed to let me do this for them.

I then took the girl traipsing through the hills, showed her all my favorite paths, trees and views. Showed her the decomposing things that I'd come across on these acres and acres of woods. Kids like decomposing things. We played games and ended the evening watching some kids show on TV. She fell asleep on my lap as all the adults were in the next room having drinks, telling stories and laughing. Sometime later as the evening was coming to a close, the old Jesuit came over to me and leaned down to me and whispered in my ear: "You know Mike, not many people know this, but shortly before Ignatius (founder of the Jesuits back in the 16th century) died, he told a confidant/friend that the way you could tell if someone was going to make a great Jesuit was that they would have all the qualities that would make them a great father or parent. Mike.... You're going to make a truly great Jesuit!" I remember being really touched by this comment. This guy wasn't known (to me) as being a kind, supportive or encouraging kind of person. But he was then. And I really wanted to be great at something!

But it wasn't until this recent Sunday morning that I realized that one of my life long dreams and desires has always been to be a good father. In fact, I eventually left the Jesuits because after four years of that way of life, I realized that I had never even considered marriage as an option for me. I'd never ever seen one work. All of the marriages I had seen, including my own parents, had ended in divorce, most of them bitter. I ultimately left the Jesuits because I needed to find out if marriage was an option I wanted to consider and within a very short time, I met a woman who would later become my wife....just recently for 28 years. With her, I became father to three wonderful and different children.

And while I always tried to be a good father, the drinking became more and more of an obsession for me. Parenting and adulthood were stress-filled activities and I never ever felt up to the challenge without the assistance of something outside of myself. Alcohol ultimately became my primary, if not only, solution. The disease seemed to grow very very gradually in me. Over the first 20 years of our marriage, I think I probably had maybe 6 or 7 "incidents" where my drinking crossed a line and was out of control. Each incident ended with me waking up, not remembering what I'd done or said (my wife would, unfortunately, have no problem remembering...or sharing) and feeling tremendously remorse and shame over what I'd done. I'd swear never to do that again. And I wouldn't. Well, I would never do "exactly" that again....but I would eventually always do something quite similar to it sometime in the future. And the something similar always had something to do with alcohol.

Like the woman who told her story on Sunday, I hit my bottom with tremendous shame and guilt over the fact, or rather, the perception that I'd ended up being the most horrible and despicable father ever in the history of the world. The shame was most intense when my 15 year old son reached his bottom and began trying to get clean: the shame came from the fact that while I asked to stop drinking, both to provide him a safe place to live and to show him that his father could deal with life without chemical assistance, I simply couldn't.

There was simply no way that with all the stress in my life (most of it related to my son!) that I could go any number of days without alcohol to relieve the stress and get me through the day. And I didn't. For the next 10 months I drank in secret, without getting caught. Most often, I drank in bars after dropping my son off at his AA or NA meetings. In the short period of time I would have while Pat was in his meeting, I would rarely have time to get really drunk. But I would have time to have two large very dry gin martinis: and that would at least "tide me over". It was only those few times where I would say "Yes!" to the hostess' offer of a third drink that I would feel drunk, where I knew I shouldn't be driving and that I should avoid all close contact with my wife so that she wouldn't smell the gin.

Yes. I connected with this Dee's sense of shame. And when she talked about her "angel" I knew who my angel was: it was my son Pat. Pat was my angel not because he approached me about my drinking problem, but because he was getting clean and sober. He wasn't trying to judge me. The last night I drank, Pat did smell something on my breath (it was actually oozing out of my skin!) and asked me if I had been drinking. I so wanted to tell him the truth. I'd seen how compassionate he'd been with others who had relapsed and how forgiving he had been of himself for his own relapses (for the first five months, he couldn't stay clean for more than 5-10 days! I'd try to be encouraging and tell him that "relapse is sometimes part of this process Pat..." but he would smile and say, "Dad, I haven't really "lapsed" yet, so these aren't relapses!").

But I couldn't tell him the truth because if I did, well, then I would have to stop drinking! And I simply could not stop drinking! That was my hell! I couldn't stop! So I lied. Pat accepted that lie without judgment or recrimination or attack. He said, "Oh, I smelled something like alcohol and I had to ask. Someone must have spilled something on the ground around here."

So, this Sunday morning I was blessed with one of those miracles --- where our lives flash before our eyes and everything all falls into place and makes perfect sense. All I ever really wanted to be was a good father. And I was. And I am. All because of my angel of a son. I'm looking forward to May this year because he will, "him willing", celebrate 8 years clean time. A month later in June, he'll turn 24 years old. And, me willing (and with pure grace/gift), will hopefully celebrate my 8 years of sobriety in October.

How does all this apply to the 12th step? Contrary to what most people seem to believe, for me, the 12th step is not primarily about sponsoring people or getting other people sober even. And if you read the 12x12 carefully, I think that Bill would agree with me. The very first sentence in the chapter about the 12th step, talks about the "joy of living" being the theme of the 12th step. And then at the very end of the same chapter, Bill ends with a statement that "the joy of good living" is the theme of the 12th step. The "joy" Bill is talking about is not some legalistically conforming way of life. It's life to the fullest. It's honest, true, fragile, emotional, uncomfortable, painful, scary. It's in our face. Right here, right now! This is the joy that Dee saw in this other teacher, a recovering alcoholic, and it was the fact that that joy was evident in a person practicing recovery that allowed one young woman to reach out and ask for help. In effect, she was saying I can't continue doing what I'm doing and I see that you know what that's like and have found a way out. Help me!

And that's the joy I started to see in my son, my angel, as he began his own journey of recovery. And that's what let me reach out to him and ask for help. Without him, I wouldn't have come in these rooms as early as I did, if at all. And since then, others have come to me as their "angel" and I have done what Pat did with me: I've helped them into the safe rooms of AA and got them started on their own journeys of recovery. I think that's all 12th step work.

And this is how I got addicted to AA meetings.

Take care!

Mike L.

Is AA a Cult?

When I began this blog, I forgot that I was publishing this log of thoughts and opinions to the wild of the Internet and foolishly allowed "Comments" to my blog. Within a few days, I was inundated with almost a dozen comments, all from a guy named 'MICKY'. Apparently, he does not share my love for the program/organization called AA and he's welcome to his own experience. I'm not sure how to accurately characterize his experience and while it's far different from my own, there were parts of his rantings that stirred up memories of my own and I couldn't help but feel some empathy for him.

When I first got sober a little over six years ago, I'd quickly gotten a sponsor who began taking me through the Big Book a page/chapter at a time, just like had been done with him by his sponsor. I didn't mind this approach at all, at least for the first two steps. But as we approached the third step, he started talking about what his sponsor had done with him and I got the distinct impression that he was fully expecting to do the same thing with me when my turn came to work this step: "Made a decision to turn my will and my life over to the care of God, as I understood him."

What his sponsor had done with him was to take him up to a hill in Pleasant Hill, California and on top of that pleasant hill, they each knelt in front of a bench and recited the so-called "Third Step Prayer" together: God, I offer myself to Thee, to build with me and to do with me as Thou wilt....etc." When they were done, the 3rd step was completed and they then immediately moved on to the next step.

Well, unbeknownst to my sponsor, there just wasn't a chance in hell that I was going up to any such hill, pleasant or not, to kneel down and pray this or any other prayer with him. No fucking way.

When I got sober, I was 48 years old. The disease had been very slow, but progressively worse nonetheless. Earlier in my life, I'd been a Lutheran---had even been the President of the goddamned Luther League! I converted to Catholicism when I was in my early 20's and entered the Jesuits shortly thereafter with the full intent of becoming a Jesuit priest... I had a bachelor's degree in Catholic theology and had thought long and hard about the issues surrounding the questions of God's existence or non-existence. Ultimately, I left the Jesuits: in part, because I got tired of trying to fit my experience of God into an acceptable framework of the Catholic Church or some local manifestation of that organization, but in larger part, due to my certainty that if I were to stay much longer in this celibate religious order, I would certainly become an alcoholic! I have a long history of reaching this exact same crisis point again and again and again: if I stay here doing "this", I will certainly become an alcoholic.

Anyway, back to my 3rd step issue: after getting sober, one of the things that made me feel most comfortable and safe in AA was the language scattered throughout the book and literature which seemed to say that within this organization, each individual was absolutely free to come up with their own understanding of God or a Higher Power. In fact, if the individual's understanding of God was that God did not exist, they were still a full member of AA in good standing. No better, no less than someone whose understanding was more theistic. I love the fact that the third chapter of the Big Book was called "We Agnostics" rather than "Those Agnostics" or "We Former Agnostics."

But I had already started to have this sense of safety become challenged by certain practices and language within the rooms of AA that seemed inconsistent with this fundamental principle of AA. Not only was there the talk of a 3rd step that involved reciting a very specific prayer with another person....which seemed to me to imply that these two folks were acting as though they had a common understanding of God, else why would they be saying the same prayer together. And if everyone in AA accomplished their 3rd step by reciting this same exact prayer together with another, was the talk of a God of my own understanding really a joke or ruse?

There was also the practice of opening and closing most AA meetings that I had attended to that point with either the Serenity Prayer or the Lord's Prayer. Both prayers are Christian prayers or at least "rooted" in the Christian tradition. If I didn't have an understanding of God that fit in with that tradition, was I some how "outside" of the fellowship if I did not hold hands with other members at the end of meetings and participate in this apparently Christianized AA ritual? Could I stay in AA if in fact it was a Christian cult or required belief in God as a condition of membership or a condition of longer term sobriety?

Luckily, at this time in my sobriety, I met Dr. Earle Marsh (deceased 1/13/03). Earle had gotten sober June 15, 1953, two days before I was born. His story, Physician Heal Thyself, was published in the 2nd edition of the Big Book and he was something of an icon around here where I was getting sober. Anyway, my first sponsor unwittingly directed me to have my path intersect with Earle's. This sponsor had encouraged me to go to a big men's meeting because they really did things right at this meeting. Well, I hated it. While the chairs (what some places refer to a "leads" where you tell your story...) were usually very good, they did not ask for volunteers to talk/share---the chair would only call on people he knew and none of them knew me. The fellowship was very strong in this meeting and there was a lot of positive energy flowing before, during and after the meeting. But I still hated it. I started to get the impression that they were all members of a AA cult and they were trying to draw me into the fold. If only I'd do what I was told....and that included getting down on my knees and praying the 3rd step prayer with my sponsor. No fucking way.

Anyway, one night---I'd already decided that it was my last visit to this meeting---toward the end of the meeting, this little man I had only known as an oldtimer who had his story in the book (when talking to others after the meeting, I referred to him as the Joker, because while he rarely got called on to talk, when he did talk, he had a wonderful way of telling stories and to make me laugh)....this little old man raised his hand and didn't wait to be called on, and simply said, "My name is Earle and I'm an alcoholic." Everyone welcomed him with a roar, "Hi Earle!". He then continued, "I've heard everything that you men have said tonight and to be honest with you, I think it's all a bunch of bullshit!" At first, there was complete silence in the room of 100+ men. And then everyone broke into laughter.... Earle looked at them with a half-smile and then said, "No, I'm serious! I think what's been said tonight is a bunch of bullshit." Well, this time, they didn't laugh so hard.

Earle then went on to tell a brief version of his story and it dawned on me that he'd gotten sober two days before I was born. He'd been sober every moment of my entire life. More importantly, this iconic figure with 48+ years of sobriety, friend of Bill Wilson himself and writer of one of the stories in the Big Book, had told an entire room of AA members that they were full of shit. And he didn't get kicked out. Now, he may very well have pissed off a few or a bunch of folks, but nonetheless, he was still allowed to have his say and to return the following week!

That's when I learned that while there are "cultish" aspects to this weird organization called Alcoholics Anonymous, that given our freedom to believe and do as we wish and remain full members in good standing, it's not a cult. At least for me. It's also where I learned that my third step didn't have to involve praying any prayer with another person. In fact, it didn't have to involve prayer at all. For me, the third step involved me coming to an understanding that much of my life had been spent "playing God" --- and, in particular, by using alcohol as a means of playing this role of God: He (me) who could change reality to fit His (my) wants and desires. My third step didn't involve a commitment to any sort of god, it was more of a resignation on my part from playing the role of God. It meant letting go and just being me. And being me, involved among other things, being an alcoholic who simply couldn't "stop" drinking...but who could stay sober, one day at a time.

This is all not to say that Micky's experience is wrong or that his opinions are bunk. His experience is apparently far different than mine and he's apparently taken it upon himself to teach everyone the "truth" about AA, Bill Wilson, etc. That's fine with me. I don't particularly find his arguments persuasive and I'm not going to become a hostage to his voluminous (clearly "cut and paste" from a library of anti-AA messages and writings....) comments and diatribes.

For that reason, I've removed the "Comments" from my blog. I am looking for other alternatives to allowing people to respond/comment on what I share here, which do not subject me or others to abusive rantings. Until then, this will be a one-way communication tool. Sorry folks!

Mike L.

Top 10+ Dumb Things I've Heard in AA Meetings...

Here's a list of truly dumb things I've heard in AA meetings over the last several years. All of them probably contain some kernel of truth that I agree with wholeheartedly....but they all struck me as utterly stupid at the time I heard them. The truth is though, I've actually heard some of my close AA friends quote me in meetings, "As Mike often says, blah, blah, blah..." --- when I've heard them do this, I've also disagreed with those quotes! I truly am a contrarian at heart.

Anyway, here's the list....it keeps getting longer and I'm sure I'll be guilty of saying any or some of these at some point myself. Oh, well.

1. "There's a chapter called 'Into Action' but no chapter called 'Into Thinking' ". -- true, but (1) thinking IS an action and (2) we are sentient beings who must think--the challenge is to think well (and in that regard, pp. 86-87 in Into Action, provide a most beautiful explanation of how to think more humanly..."On awakening, let us think about the 24 hours ahead....(next 3 paragrapha)

2. "My best thinking got me here (said in sarcastic tone)." My best thinking DID get me here! It was my worst thinking that kept me out there and from coming in the doors of AA.

3. The expansion of "Keep Coming Back!" to say, "Don't Ever Leave!". I think we must leave and return to the real world. The AA meeting and the fellowship is a brief, periodic place of respite, not a 24 hour safety zone.

4. Sometimes told to a newcomer: "Take the cotton out of your ears and put it in your mouth". Oh, pluleeeez. When I got sober, I'd been isolating for so long with alcohol as my only true friend and lover, that when I did get into these meetings, I needed to talk about what was going on, what feelings were flooding into my consciousness, what fears I had, etc. True, I needed to learn the art of sharing....and that took time and thank god there were lots of people who were exceedingly patient and kind with me during those emotional outbursts and floods. But I needed to talk. I needed to get connected to others. I needed you to know me. Someone once said that there are two parts to AA: the story-telling part and the story-listening part. (Ernest Kurtz). I love that line: for me, the only reason I could handle the story-listening part was that I knew that one day, I'd get to tell my story. Ahhhh, what a relief that was. And what nourishment I get from listening to other people's stories.

5. "God willing, I'll have X years/mos/days sober..." I sometimes counter this mantra by saying that "Me willing, I'll have x years/mos/days sober....". I really can't imagine God willing any alcoholic/addict to drink or use..... Truly, sobriety seems to be a gift....but the key ingredient for that gift to become effective is acceptance. And that's something only I can do.

6. The demeaning way people talk about selecting a door knob as a higher power; what's so bad about God as door knob? What's a door knob used for; opening a door and getting into the next room? What's important in the use of door knobs?letting them go before closing them once you're in the new room! A finger pointing to the moon; don't get distracted by the finger that you forget to see the moon!

7. "If you want what we have, do what we do." Be careful: doing what we do is actually impossible to do (you aren't me); doing what we do might get both the visible desired good and the invisible undesired bad results! I tell my sponsees that I don't tell them my stories in some subtle attempt to tell them what to do. Doing what I do my very well get them drunk! I tell them my stories because that's really all I have to offer them. My stories are more often "warnings" than they are "instruction sets."

8. "The 12 Steps were meant to be done in order..." True, but they were also suggestions and there may be good reasons for taking some of them out of order. In fact, I heard one person say that their sponsor told them if they ever find themselves stuck in a particular step, always feel free to work any step that has a "1" in it: i.e., 1, 10, 11 or 12. And Step 11 has two ones in it, so really feel free to work Step 11 at any time!

9. "My sponsor had me do the steps exactly according to the Big Book, including the fourth column of my fourth step." To be honest, I looked and I didn't see anything about a fourth column in the book or in the 12x12. The book does say, earlier in the 5th chapter, that under certain conditions, we'd be ready to take "certain steps"... For me, what happened is the steps seemed to happen to me pretty much in order. But I many times resorted to use of the 10th step to take care of some day-to-day stuff (especially with my wife), the 11th step to begin and end and survive my day, and the 12 step to try and help someone who was hurting from this dis-ease. And I've often found myself smack dab in the middle of a 1st step experience of powerlessness over alcohol and many other things, again, especially my wife!

10. "I've earned my seat here in AA..." All that's required is a desire to stop drinking.

11. "My sponsor told me that there's no F* word in any spirituality or spiritual program..." There's an old timer around here who says this whenever he hears another member sharing and using supposedly foul language. His lectures have always bothered me. Personally, I love to say Fuck in meetings when it seems appropriate (to me, of course!) My sponsor says it all the time, in fact, it's used by him more often than verbs or adjectives! Where others use spaces and pauses between words, he uses the word Fuck. As in many other areas of life, here's a place where my sponsor is much sicker than I am... Anyway, next time I hear this guy make this statement in a meeting, I'm going to crosstalk (subtlely, of course!) and share that "I think his sponsor is factually wrong, because for me, it wasn't UNTIL I used the F* word in my prayer that my prayer truly became intimate with my higher power!! In fact, when other polite forms of prayer don't seem to get the job done, I sometimes resort to the one word version of the Serenity Prayer which in fact only contains one word, the F* word!!! Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck!" It simply expresses surrender better than any other word I know.

12. "I know I have one more drunk in me, I don't think I have another recovery." I'm assuming that if we're truly powerless over alcohol, at least once it's in our bodies, then none of us alcoholics are going to be very good a predicting one way or another what will or won't happen if we drink or use. Personally, I'm not so much afraid of the relapse as I am of the possibility that were I to relapse, I might be so ashamed of myself for relapsing that I'd be too afraid/proud/stubborn to come back in the rooms and raise my hand. That's what scares me.

13. "John, I don't think you're done yet. (said to an AA by a 'friendly' AA who didn't think had his heart into working the program)." What a dumb thing to say to another alcoholic! As mentioned in #12 above, none of us has any idea what will happen if we drink. Why we'd give any other alcoholic the added excuse or motivation to take another drink is beyond me.