The Steps' Hidden Principles: An Addendum

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.