
Uh huh. This says it all.
Alcohol Recovery Blog... Well, not so much any more. I've lost all of my support over the last several years obviously. Nobody wants to go head to head with the Anti/XAers anymore. Seems that most have jumped off of the A.A. "bandwagon" all together. I've lost my resolve as well. Still sober 20+ years though. So there is that.
So, Part III. I was “empty of self” at this point, if that makes any sense. The “self” that ego I brought into the program had been dissected, much to my dismay. I was a shell. While taking the steps I began the process of introspection and all those parts of the “me” were forced into the open for a comprehensive, honest moral analysis. And in identifying my defects, I became aware certain “virtues” that could come to be if I dealt with my shortcomings. These were Spiritual assets, more parts of the whole, so to speak.
Dealing with my resentments, a main contender for the title in the heavyweight class, led me to understand the concept of forgiveness. I learned that I could forgive others for harms they caused. This doesn’t imply forgetfulness, though. I couldn’t forget pain or hurt as these are learning tools. The Promise of neither forgetting the past nor wishing to shut the door on it started to make sense.
Fear, the foundation of most defects, led me to a faith in God. As I began to accept God’s will in place of my will, there was little to fear anymore. This “let go and let God” stuff suddenly lifted a huge burden from my shoulders. These mundane AA phases actually make sense sometimes.
The realization of my part in events in my life led to the acceptance of personal responsibility. No more pity parties, no more blaming everyone else.
I came to recognize my defects included acts of omission as well as commission. What I failed to do was sometimes more serious that the things that I did. This was a real eye opener. I had always thought of faults as actions, not inactions.
The realization of my imperfections, my defects in their entirety, led me to comprehend what love was. I had known affection, but not love. I accepted the fact that I was an imperfect human being, and in doing so I learned to accept the imperfections of others. I first learned to love myself (a significant event, believe me) in spite of my imperfections. In doing so I learned for the first time how to love others, and to love them in spite of their imperfections.
With this knowledge of love came the ability to form meaningful relationships. And surprisingly, (to me, at least) I came to understand meaningful conflict resolution. No more running from a problem in a relationship. No more fear of rejection.
The list goes on, but you get the gist of what was happening here.
With these discoveries, this newfound realization of what good things could come into my life if I so chose, I came to understand happiness.
But I wasn’t done. After humbly (that damn word again!) asking God to remove all my shortcomings, I had to address the fact that I had harmed others. I couldn’t understand this virtue of forgiveness for others until I learned about forgiveness from others. So I dragged out that 4th step list and began another one, this time of people I had harmed. And lo! Along came willingness, a willingness to make amends to those on the list. Another piece of that elusive thing called spirituality.
This part of my spiritual journey came grudgingly. The list of people I had harmed was populated with a lot of “yeah buts”. I had to differentiate between harm caused to me and harm I caused others. The remnants of my pride started to surface. But I was forced to concentrate on “Keeping my side of the street clean.” (Heard that one before?) My sponsor, who I haven’t mentioned before, and who deserves all the credit for keeping me on the right path on this journey, kept pounding that little phrase into my skull.
Then came another post - doctoral degree in humility. I went to each person, if possible, to make amends, to ask for forgiveness. I was taught that I had to do this in a certain manner. I had to say “I apologize. It was my fault. I was wrong. What can I do to make it right?” I used those phrases in making all my amends, and I use them to this day. This 9th step is an ongoing process, however. Some amends I’ll never be able to make in person. In certain cases, such as my father, I read a letter over his grave. In others, I wrote a letter and then burned it. With some people it’s a matter of proper timing. The process continues.
Now it became a matter of walking the walk. I try and do a continuous moral inventory. When I’m wrong I promptly admit it. And I use the same format as I did in the 10th step when addressing each wrong. “I apologize, etc.” I’m not talking about losing an argument over the Yankee’s starting lineup in the 1959 season here. I’m talking about being wrong! And usually this type of wrong causes someone harm.
Somewhere along the way I had that “spiritual awakening” we talk about. My character, my personality changed. It’s funny that I didn’t notice it, either. Rather, it was brought to my attention. “You’ve changed. What’s going on?”
I’d like you to believe that this was an easy process, that I was one gung - ho son of a bitch doing the steps. But that’s bullshit. You can see the claw marks left in the concrete as my sponsor dragged me through them. And please don’t get the impression that I was a screaming success in doing any of this stuff. It’s progress, not perfection here. I’m an imperfect human. Remember?
And here comes the part that Patrick referred to - I have to milk this fucker for all it’s worth. Now that I had a spiritual awakening I have to perpetuate it, keep it alive, change the awakening into spirituality as a lifestyle.
I do that by staying in touch with God. I pray, but differently than before. Now, rather than pray for “stuff” or for good things to happen to me, I pray for guidance, understanding, acceptance, knowledge. Those things that will show me how I’m supposed to live my life.
And I listen to God. I meditate, receptive to His answers. Read Kushner’s book “Why Bad Things Happen to Good people” and you’ll meet my God. I think you’d like Him.
And now it’s practice, practice, practice. Those things I’ve learned along this journey? Now I try to practice them in my life. Not just my AA life, but my life life.
I try and carry the message. I speak before groups, I’m involved in a couple of home groups.
I work with other alcoholics, explaining how I did it, trying to guide them on the journey I took. And here I learned to accept disappointment, as few who walk in the doors are willing to thoroughly follow the path. It’s sad that so few end up getting it.
I work the steps regularly to keep myself honest.
There’s no diploma when you get to the 12th step because you never finish it. It doesn’t say we practice these principles in all our affairs for only 12 months. Spirituality is a way of life, not a term of office.
I live my life today as best I can; very imperfectly to be sure. But that’s ok. I think part of spirituality is the paradox that I can live a life of serenity and joy, all the while accepting my imperfections. As Kurtz said, I’m not ok and that all right.
Now let’s get back to the original question. What’s spirituality? I can’t explain it any more than I can explain what a rose smells like.
I like the Ignation concept of spirituality as a “way of proceeding”. That’s how I began to understand it as a journey. So I’m left with trying to explain my understanding of this elusive quality. I can do this best by recounting those things I came to understand during and as a result of this phenomenal journey. Think of this as an "As Joe sees it":
I learned to accept life for what it is, knowing that I can control only myself and not others.
The sun will still rise tomorrow whether I want it to or not. I keep this in mind in case I feel the urge to control things.
I don’t have to be right, nor do I have to attend every argument I’ve been invited to.
What you think of me doesn’t concern me. If what you thought of me was important, then I’d have to lead my life just to please you (and you and you and you).
I learned to forgive, but to not forget.
I learned to live in the present. I can’t change the past. If I try to forecast the future (project, I like to say) then my mind becomes a very dangerous neighborhood.
I learned to love. I learned to be loved.
I learned how to be gracious in accepting thanks or compliments from others. (Never could do that before.)
I learned happiness.
I have serenity and guard it jealously. You do not want to fuck with my serenity.
I say the Serenity Prayer a lot, seeking strength and wisdom. I need the strength to change in me what needs changing. That’s not always easy for me.
I need wisdom. I need to know what I can’t change, and to know what’s best left alone even if I could change it. Face it, there are things we can change other than ourselves, just not people. But to change just for the sake of being able to is never a good thing.
I’ve given up wanting “stuff’. I’m happy just having the things I need.
Sure, shit still happens. Life’s far from perfect. I still get angry. But I get over it rather than let it fester.
That committee in my head? They’re gone for the most part. Only one left is that little bit of ego I still hold on to. He’s pretty harmless these days unless I start getting that into that HALT bullshit.
I go through life doing the best I can. I’m human with all the warts and imperfections that come with being human.
I know this journey has no destination, no end. I’ll be on it as long as I live.
But best of all?
I’m content. Life is good.
I’ll skip the drunkalog here except to say that I was
a pretty desperate drunk
when I came into the rooms.
I needed help. I wanted to stop drinking. This thing called
Spirituality, however, was the farthest thing from my mind
I didn’t need Spirituality; I needed sobriety. At the time, I didn’t realize the correlation between the two.
Yet in completing the 12 steps I
had what we call that “spiritual
awakening”, that change in my
character that the program brings about. And with that change came the emotional and mental sobriety that the Big Book told me I’d receive if I thoroughly followed the
steps. I never had the “flash of light” experience, but rather the educational variety of spiritual awakening that William James refers to. It happened over time, and is happening to this day.
I’ve got a problem here though in that I can’t honestly define what spirituality is. I often hear in the rooms that it’s a
personal relationship with my higher power. I suppose that’s part of it. I think the essence of spirituality involves the concept of a higher power, but the
overall spiritual experience is more than just that. I had a hell of a personal relationship with God after a quart of vodka, or at least I thought so at the time.
Bill Wilson writes “Most of us
think this awareness of a Power
greater than ourselves is the essence of spiritual experience.” Indeed. But that doesn’t solve my problem. What is spirituality, or at least how do I explain my spirituality? I’ve thought long and hard about this over
the past few years and have
concluded that I can’t define it,
nor can I explain it. I tried to cheat and Googled the
definition of spirituality.
There are about 4,6000,000
hits – so take your pick. An explanation of spirituality? About the same. No help there.
So I guess it’s got to be a personal thing, best described as the destination reached through a journey through the 12 steps. For each of us it’s going to be different. I’ve been able to
reconstruct the process of my spiritual awakening to some degree. I can also explain the character changes that occurred. That’s probably the closest I’ll ever come to being able to explaining what my spirituality is all about.
As I said in Part I, my biggest issue was self. I was my problem. And I say that in retrospect as I certainly didn’t know it before I came to AA.
I think started my journey in the
first two steps. I admitted I was
powerless. A crack in the armor
had appeared. For once, I had a
problem that I couldn’t fix. I needed help. I believed that a power greater than me existed. Ah! I was starting to remember the stuff from all that religious education. And not only
did that power exist, but it was
capable of restoring me to sanity.
Damn! The chink in the armor
started to widen. The self began
to crumble. The journey had begun. And not only could this power do for me what I could not do for myself, it would!
All I had to do was ask.
My first lesson in humility. I was an imperfect human being after all.
Then I had to get up close and personal with my imperfections. I had to do a personal moral inventory. A fearless and thorough moral inventory. Facing that scared the shit out of me. For the first time in my life, I had to take an honest look at myself and I was afraid.
I did not want to face the character defects that defined me, for in doing so my self image, my great ego, would be shattered. But I knew that if I was ever going to get and keep
this sobriety I so badly wanted, this inventory was essential. I was my problem. I had to be fixed. And in working through this agonizing (at the time) process, my spiritual awakening continued. Baby steps sometimes, but always moving forward.
After I worked (and reworked and reworked) my way through this inventory, I finally had an honest picture of myself.And it weren’t pretty. My second lesson in humility was not a pleasant
one. Damn ugly, in fact. Bad enough I had to discover all these defects, wrongs, shortcomings,
whatever. I then had to
admit the damn things! To myself, no problem. And God already knew them, so again no problem. But another human being? My humility was getting a graduate degree.
As painful as this process
seemed (and at the time it was pretty damn painful), it had to be done. I couldn’t change my character and experience a spiritual awakening unless I knew what needed to be changed. And here again I’m faced with my powerlessness. I needed to turn to my higher power for some help.
I needed to rid myself of all my
character defects. I couldn’t even
hold on to a few that I sort of enjoyed.(character assassination comes to mind).
Not only did I have to ask Him again for help, but I had to humbly ask Him. My humility was doing post-doctoral work.
(Stick around. More will be revealed in Part III)
SPIRITUALITY PART I
AA is has always been defined as a spiritual program, but
unfortunately the term “spirituality” is often confused
with religion. I see this in reading criticisms of the
program by those who don’t understand AA, often
calling it a religion or cult. Various District Court
decisions have indeed ruled that mandatory attendance
at AA meetings for DUI offenders is a violation of t
he constitution, which prohibits the endorsement of any
religion. This in essence reflects an “official” view
that AA is a religion. But mandatory attendance at
meetings is a whole other issue that I won’t go into here.
I think the view of AA as a religious organization is
probably drawn from our constant reference to God.
We use the word God throughout the Big Book and
particularly in 12 Steps, the Traditions, and the
Promises. There are 3rd, 7th, and 11th step prayers
as well as the Serenity Prayer used to open most
meetings and the Lord’s Prayer to close them. But only
in the steps do we see the caveat “as we understand him”.
If one takes the time to read the Big Book carefully,
and becomes familiar with the history of AA, they’ll
see that AA very carefully steers away from any
connotation of being a religious organization.
Religion is thought to be too inclusive, too restrictive.
Indeed the very thought of religion strikes fear in
the hearts of many alcoholics. We thus emphasize
the concept of a “power greater than ourselves” to
carefully avoid any connotation of religion. But this
recognition of a higher power nonetheless plays an
essential role in the AA program.
But why do we say “God” all the time? It’s
probably because we’re a Judeo-Christian
culture and the term is familiar to all of use.
It’s also a lot easier to say “God” than “God
as I understand Him”, or “a power greater
than myself” in any discussion. And indeed,
many of us believe in God as our higher power,
so that’s just what we say.
This idea of needing a higher power is initially
seen in the first 3 steps. I’m powerless. I no
longer think I can do this alone, only something
more powerful than I can do it. And this
power will help me if I ask. The key to the whole
program is that I can’t do it alone. It’s the first
acknowledgement of the powerlessness of self.
My first glimpse of humility. I, as an individual,
am not all powerful, not God. That, for me at least,
was one hell of a big step (or fall). My ego began
to deflate. I, who had never asked for help in
my life, recognized my utter helplessness in dealing
with my alcoholism. As with most of us, it was in
a pit of utter despair that I finally came to terms
with this higher power thing.
And I think there’s a certain paradox here in that
I was raised a Catholic and had 12 years of
Catholic education. I learned about religion,
theology, dogma. Prayer was always said in
the approved, rote format recited at the appropriate
times during the appropriate ceremonies. I read
Aquinas and Augustine. I knew all about God. He
was all knowing, all-powerful, eternal. These
things I knew. But this knowledge lead to
self-righteousness, the self-righteousness to
self-centeredness, and an eventual focus in life
solely on self. God, indeed the whole concept of
higher power, began to fade to the distant past.
I fell away from the Church, from God. I caught
a spiritual disease, a “soul sickness” as Fr. Martin
liked to call it. Self and ego took over my life.
“I” and “me” were the operative terms of my existence.
(Stay tuned to Part II of the continuing saga. In the next
segment I’ll begin to deal with the concept of spirituality.)