June 2023

I came into this program with a chip on my shoulder looking for a reason to bolt. I didn’t believe I was an alcoholic and tried hard to discount or totally not listen to all the knowledge that was freely given to me. My sponsor at the time suggested that I concentrate on just the first 3 Steps. I didn’t think I was powerless over alcohol, but my life was seriously unmanageable, so Step 1 was doable. Insanity was on my mind a lot and I had always believed in a Power greater than myself, so again, Step 2 was doable. I love how the founders of this program gave us the ability to pick a Higher Power as we understand him, making Step 3 agreeable. I went through many months using only the first 3 Steps and saying “I can’t, He can, I think I’ll let Him.” With not drinking and following the first three Steps my life was noticeably better.

Then, as my God would have it, I heard an individual give my lead on a bright Sunday morning and understood that I too was an alcoholic. With my sponsor’s help, I trudged through the other 9 Steps and my life was again getting better. After about a year and a half and with a new sponsor, we realized that when I did my original 4th Step I was not able to be totally fearless as the Step asks. So, with my new sponsor’s
help, we did the Steps again.

I’d say my life got better again but that would take away from the fact that my life (and all who fearlessly go through the Steps) gets better all the time. Tony D has been passing out a small card these days that states the principles behind the 12 Staps and they are worth sharing: Step 1 – Honesty, Step 2 – Hope, Step 3 – Faith, Step 4 – Courage, Step 5 – Integrity, Step 6 – Willingness, Step 7 – Humility, Step 8 – Brotherly Love, Step 9 – Justice, Step 10 – Perseverance, Step 11 – Spiritual/Awareness, Step 12 – Service.

Using these principles behind the Steps, I can see what my heart is lacking each day and day by day make that Step the focus for the day. We hear it continually at meetings and it’s true as life itself that the Steps have given my a life that is way better than I could have imagines. Thanks AA.

To balk: “to be unwilling to do something or to allow something to happen… to stop, as at an obstacle, and refuse to proceed or to do something specified.”

“If you have decided you want what we have and are willing to go to any length to get it, then you are ready to take certain steps…. At some of these we balked.”

I can fix this by myself. I don’t need anybody’s help. Besides, it’s not that bad.

Can’t sleep. A nameless dread comes over me. Nightmares.

I look at myself in the mirror – “What the hell’s the matter with me?”

Shame – I try to justify my bad behavior, but the scared faces of my kids accuse me.

Lie after lie, excuse after excuse. Empty promises to “get better.”

It’s the last house on the block. Someone told me there might be hope there.

My defenses are up, even though these people seem kind.

“Trust no one. Never show weakness.” – ancient lessons for staying safe.

Have I suffered enough?

“When the last thing you lost or the next thing you’re about to lose is more important than drinking – that’s when you’re ready.”

I believe in God. But does he believe in me? I’m all busted up inside.

Ok. I’ll make this promise: I’ll tell at least one person on the face of this planet everything. (But I know he’ll be disgusted when he sees who I really am.)

Seeing how wrong I’ve been about everything.

Who knew there was anybody else who drank like I did, felt as bad as I have?

Learning to hate my bad behaviors without hating myself.

How many excuses I’ve used to justify hurting others!

Is there enough time left to repair the damage?

Quiet time is scary. Yet this “serenity” they talk about comes more and more.

How self-absorbed I’ve always been! Never thinking of helping anyone but myself.

“The only cure for a bad feeling is a right action.”

Now I have a coin in my pocket with a large Roman numeral.

How can I tell anybody I’m coming unglued inside again? I’ll lose all respect.

“I fall down, and I get back up again. I fall down, and I get back up again.

Progress. Daily reprieve. Maintenance. But I never have to do it all alone again.

“When, therefore, we were approached by those in whom the problem had been solved, there was nothing left for us but to pick up the simple spiritual tool kit left at our feet. We have found much of heaven and we have been rocketed into a fourth dimension of existence of which we had not even dreamed.”
(Alcoholics Anonymous, pg. 25)

Maybe Bill W. was rocketed. For me it came slower, perhaps as a nudge and sometimes even a gentle kick. I knew God and believed in Him, but didn’t think He believed in me any more. I wanted to do Step Three with all my heart, but boy did I struggle. Step Two lit the hope in me, but when I was new to sobriety my lack of trust caused me to straddle the imaginary gap my alcoholic mind had created between the two steps.

How could I trust God when I didn’t even know how to trust myself? I can’t tell you the exact date this changed. All I know is that I had an abundance of hope brought on by utter desperation. That hope was my crutch in early sobriety. I had a death grip on it as I just kept working the program to the best of my ability. People told me that my life would change by working the steps, and I wanted that so much. I did whatever I was told, and just kept hoping and believing in that Higher Power.

My first spiritual experience wasn’t one accompanied by angelic music and blinding light such as we see in the movies. It was a subtle realization that after 25 years of heavy drinking, I was staying sober. How was that happening? I had no idea, but I felt in my gut that I had nothing to do with it. That’s when I awoke to the fact that it must be that Higher Power you all kept talking about.

I was so overwhelmed with gratitude that I was finally able to reach out toward God, that third step, and the rest of the steps. I
have repeated that third step daily ever since. Today, I wouldn’t want to go through a single day without my Higher Power’s gentle nudges.

Like many men, sports play a big part in our lives. Especially when we are younger and more able to participate than being a spectator.

When I first came back to AA (back meaning my first 2 visits were unsuccessful) I thought I’d do something different like take suggestions. The bargain I made with myself was I’ll do these suggestions but this shit better work. If not y’all a bunch of weird liars. And I’d know a liar! I also knew weird.

We all know of these suggestions. Big book, meetings, steps, service work and sponsorship. Of all of these I had the biggest problem with was sponsorship. Maybe a guy thing of asking for help. Perhaps a sign of weakness. Fear of rejection. Admitting my faults to another human being. Really? As a practicing alcoholic we just shove that crap deeper and cover it up with a healthy dose of booze.

Then a thought came. Why can’t I look at a sponsor as a coach. Someone who knows this sport of AA better than me. He can look at my swing from afar and tell me to choke up on this bat or dribble the ball without looking at it. We have practice at AA meeting and coffee. Our teams players are my friends. Some of them stay on the team longer because they practice. If they get injured or relapse we welcome them back and offer our help and support. Teammates you could say.

Our opponent is very patient waiting to pick us off one at a time. If we play as a team we remain strong. If you show up for practice and work hard your skills will be strengthened. We have a great coach and he knows his shit. So find yourself a coach. Hell, you ain’t married to him you can always get a different coach or join a new team. There’s a new league starting everyday.

See you next practice!

As an alcoholic I have a perception deficiency… I can sit next to someone at church who shares the same beliefs I do and believes in the same Jewish carpenter that I do but if they do not have a head full of wiring like mine WE hear two completely different messages being preached. Therefore, I do not have the luxury of taking the elevator or even the escalator to God. I must take the steps. I have to take them one at a time, with someone holding my hand to guide me on each step. Making sure my footing is sound and stable before WE take the next step. This is an undeniable fact for me.

WE walk the steps together hand in hand to come face to face with our creator. Then together WE go back and gather someone else and assist them in their steps to God. I see the steps as a beautiful grand ballroom staircase that I walk up one step at a time with my sponsor holding one hand and me holding the hand of my sponsee. Like rock climbers we are tethered together for safety and security. That is how WE succeed. Together. When one of us falls WE all go down. WE pick each other up, WE dust ourselves off and WE try again. Together. Together because WE can’t do this alone and having climbed the glorious staircase a few times now, I couldn’t imagine doing it any other way.

If you are anything like me, you may have had an irreverent attitude towards life. I sure as hell did. Looking back, I never really cared about much that others seemed to take so seriously. Furthering my education or working towards some dream jobs were just passing thoughts like the liquor passing my lips. Always searching for the next person who I could manipulate to help me get to that next level. I mean sure, I would work, even hard at times. Always just enough though it seemed to have the elevator take me up one more floor. If I could just get up there things would be ok. Those tough decisions of which tequila to drink, much more important than the wife and kids. Full of fear wondering if I would make it home that night, or week for that matter.

As those years continued to pass, spiraling further and further, I couldn’t see there had always been a solution. A simple set of steps that could take me to a floor higher than any elevator could. Full of self-pity and despair. Exacerbating myself day after day, pushing that elevator button just hoping it would at long last take me up.

Hopelessly glancing at the stairwell, certain I didn’t have the strength to walk all those steps. Until one seemingly unsignificant day, something clicked. For a brief moment, I was able to see through the clouds I had created. After all those years standing and waiting, pushing that big button to nowhere, I realized the elevator was never going to take me anywhere but down. I had to take the steps. That first step had looked insurmountable for so long, but finally I took it. For the first time in my entire life, it felt I was graced with some relief from myself. Forward progress. Man, what a feeling. Although much slower than the elevator, its deeply more fulfilling.

Not all days are perfect taking the steps as life still continues to happen. I can honestly say though, that it has turned out to be the best decision I have ever made. No longer living with the crippling fear that the elevator isn’t going to show up. I can truly be happy, joyous, and free. Like an infinite sunrise, I’m consistently amazed by what the program of alcoholics anonymous shows me. Even in the worst of times it is always there to let me know I will be ok. Those hand shakes and cups of coffee do more than most regular people will understand. As I write this, I pray that I never lose the feelings I have today for the program. Strangers becoming family over a common goal just to not drink. It really is beautiful. One day at a time, I walk those steps and I’m granted a daily reprieve from the delusions I can so easily create. Will I keep it? Who knows, ask me again tomorrow on the steps of true freedom.