Perils, Pitfalls & Promise of the "Twelve & Twelve"

A.A. Co-Founder, Bill W.

In a letter dated October 5, 1953, A.A. co-founder and author, Bill W., wrote of the expectations he had for the newly-penned 'Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions'. "At first," he observed, "I was dubious whether anyone would care for it, save oldtimers who had begun to run into life's lumps in areas other than alcohol. But apparently, the book is being used to good effect even upon newcomers." ('Pass It On', at page 356.)

Of course, many in A.A. nowadays hold fast to the notion that the Twelve and Twelve is ruinous to A.A., and/or that its use, particularly its exclusive use, with newcomers is perilous to their prospects of attaining and maintaining sobriety. To my mind, and in my experience, such A.A. "fundamentalists" or "Big Book Thumpers" are right . . . but only partially right. Along with the perils and pitfalls that the Twelve and Twelve can present to overly-reliant newcomers, the book holds great promise and practical spiritual wisdom for the more seasoned alcoholic addict in recovery when he or she is presented with life's inevitable challenges.

In words that have quite literally saved the lives of millions of alcoholic addicts, and in a manner that the reader can use to see if he or she is alcoholic, the 'Big Book' ('Alcoholics Anonymous') clearly sets out the physical and mental aspects of the disease, a spiritual solution to this primarily mental illness, and a process of steps that can (and are) used to effect a spiritual solution to the malady. I know of few, if any, members with long-term sobriety that would start a newcomer off without going through the 'Big Book.' The methodology for working through the 12 Steps is invaluable, particularly the concise directions for getting through Steps 4 through Step Nine (a.s.a.p.) and, thereby, initiating a process of spiritual awakening that promises to arrest and alleviate the effects of the disease. Likewise, I know few (if any) old-timers who do not, or have not, benefited from what is laid out in the Twelve and Twelve.

My experiences with the 'Big Book' and the 'Twelve and Twelve' over several decades have been decidedly mixed, as I suspect the experience of many others probably have been.

In my case, by happenstance and misleading advertising, the first group I joined was a Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions group. (It was announced that February was "membership month" and that the group still had several "openings" which were available. Knowing nothing of A.A. - or recovery, for that matter - and being but a few weeks sober, I thought I had better grab one of those openings before I was shut out.) I stayed with that group, maintaining my sobriety without relapse, for over five years, until I left to help start up another group and, shortly thereafter, to move to another city. In that time, week after week, we would go through the Steps, one after another in relentless fashion.  I remember nothing of what I shared, and now shudderingly marvel that there was anything of value I could have shared!

I learned but little about the true nature of my disease, but much about how to stay sober in that time. Additionally, I read the 'Big Book' cover to cover, as suggested, but little sank in, due not to the message in the book but to the prejudice and contempt I had for all things spiritual or, somehow, 'Godly.' (Not that I wouldn't participate in the Serenity Prayer, Lord's Prayer etc., and not that I didn't read my daily meditations from the 'Twenty Four Hours a Day' book, or 'Daily Reflections' when it came out. I would grudgingly do the little I was told to do, but only that much!)

During that time I was, however, taken through the Steps both by my sponsor and then by a relative "oldtimer" within my group utilizing the 'Big Book.' I listed my resentments and fears, inventoried my sex conduct, made the list, made amends etc., and it was beneficial - to me, my family, and my employer, etc. - yet I failed to grasp the key understanding that my life in sobriety had become and continued to be "unmanageable." (See page 61.) Thus, I was handicapped from the start in my ability to "enlarge" my spiritual being.

Sobering up at age 28 in the late-Eighties, I was one of the younger members of A.A. in my area. I therefore took much false solace in the Twelve and Twelve's description of the younger "alcoholics who still had their health, their families, (and) their jobs," etc. I was mightily relieved to read that I had been "spared that last ten or fifteen years of literal hell (other A.A.s) had gone through." (Little did I know, or suspect, that years of "figurative hell" were to come.) Reading through the rest of that paragraph in the Twelve and Twelve's first chapter, I utterly failed to grasp the meaning or importance of the following question:

"Since Step One requires an admission that our lives have become unmanageable, how could such people as these take this Step?

That is a great question, indeed. For my part, and to myself alone, I saw Step One as: "Admitting that I was powerless over alcohol (and other drugs) and that my life had (potentially) become unmanageable (if I ever drank or drugged again)." Keeping all the parts in brackets to myself, I marched on in sobriety, determined to get "Good Orderly Direction" in my life. For the next five years, I relied on my Twelve and Twelve meeting, my sponsor, and thereafter on the fellowship of AA to stay sober. (This worked for me to the limited extent that I stayed straight, but I adamantly warn off others who would try it this way. I've seen too many fatalities via this route.)

Just shy of 10 years sobriety, having completed a university education and graduate school, with a wife now sober, and with two small girls - one of them named for my first sponsor - I started a job as a newly-minted professional in a new city. The days and weeks were very long, life seemed manageable, and I made a conscious decision to stop attending A.A. in order to spend what little time was left over with my wife and kids.

Little did I know that the five years after that fateful decision would be an at-first slow descent into madness, a madness in which I finally lost marriage, family, career, house and my mind. Just as the oldtimers had warned me, all those things that I had put in front of my sobriety I had lost. Beaten by life and this disease, obsessing over escape from a painful and seemingly hopeless life via the bottle, I was brought back to A.A. and to a wise and loving sponsor who took me back through the Steps. The 'Big Book' was read and explained to me. Re-doing the Steps with a new understanding, I experienced the spiritual release that is available through our program of action. My mind was opened, and with the help of several spiritual mentors, day-by-day I began - with several epiphanies along the way - to grow spiritually.

Interestingly, not only had the import and significance of the 'Big Book' - its application to my life and circumstances - soared, but the Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions had also become inextricably important to my growth in spirit and consciousness. With fifteen years clean and sober - most of it being "stark, raving sobriety" - I had become one of those whom Bill so mildly puts it "had begun to run into life's lumps in areas other than alcohol."

There are, indeed, perils and pitfalls along the way if one ignores the 'Big Book' in favour, grudgingly, of the Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, as I did. Some seem to avoid the mistakes that are so often made. I did not. But having survived these perils and pitfalls, I know that the Twelve and Twelve, holds much promise for further growth, written as it is for those who have already completed the 12 Steps as outlined in the 'Big Book' of Alcoholics Anonymous.

My closest spiritual mentor, a profoundly dedicated man with 35 years of sobriety at the time, often stressed that having taken the Steps and having recovered from the hopeless state of alcoholism - wet or dry - it is imperative that one incorporates Step Three, Step Seven and Step Eleven into one's daily life; relying on Step Ten where we screw up, and utilizing Step Twelve in carrying the message where we can. It is here, and in this process, that the experience of Bill's years of sobriety, as set out in the Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, becomes so important. Indeed, I find it is needlessly hard, if not impossible, to practice these Steps without the various spiritual nuggets of wisdom he shares there.

Consider, as examples, the following passages from the essays on Steps Three, Seven and Eleven:

• "Our whole problem had been the misuse of willpower. We had tried to bombard our problems with it instead of attempting to bring it into agreement with God's intention for us. To make this increasingly possible is the purpose of A.A.'s Twelve Steps, and Step Three opens the door."
  
  "Once we have come into agreement with these ideas, it is really easy to begin the practice of Step Three. In all times of emotional disturbance or indecision, we can pause, ask for quiet, and in the stillness simply say: "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference. Thy will, not mine, be done."" (Step Three, pp. 40-41. Emphasis added.)

• "For us, the process of gaining a new perspective was unbelievably painful. . . . It was only at the end of a long road, marked by successive defeats and humiliations, and the final crushing of our self-sufficiency, that we began to feel humility as something more than a condition of grovelling despair. . . . The admission of powerlessness over alcohol . . . is but the barest beginning. To get completely away from our aversion to the idea of being humble, to gain a vision of humility as the avenue to true freedom of the human spirit, to be willing to work for humility as some thing to be desired for itself, takes most of us a long, long time."
  
  "We saw that we needn't always be bludgeoned and beaten into humility. It could come quite as much from our voluntary reaching for it as it could from unremitting suffering. A great turning point in our lives came when we sought for humility as something we really wanted, rather than as something we must have. It marked the time when we could see the full implication of Step Seven: "Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings."" (Step Seven, pp. 72-73, 75.)

• "There is a direct linkage among self-examination, meditation and prayer. Taken separately, these practices bring much relief and benefit. But when they are logically related and interwoven, the result is an unshakeable foundation for life. Now and then we may be granted a glimpse of that ultimate reality which is God's Kingdom." (Step Eleven, p. 98.)

 As it says in 'Pass It On' (at page 352):

"If (the) 'Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions' is a small volume in terms of length, it is large in its depth and content. Whereas the Big Book, written in 1938, radiates Bill's joy and gratitude at having finally found a way to stay sober, the 'Twelve and Twelve' reflects an entirely different mood. In 1951 and 1952, when Bill wrote the second book, he was suffering almost constant depression and was forced to confront the emotional and spiritual demons that remain "stranded" in the alcoholic psyche when the high tide of active alcoholism recedes. The 'Twelve and Twelve' provides a highly practical and profoundly spiritual prescription to exercise those demons."

Thus, in my experience there are indeed grave perils and deep pitfalls that can be (as they were for me) life-threatening if one overly (or solely) relies on the Twelve and Twelve without reference and reliance on the 'Big Book' of Alcoholics Anonymous. That being said, there is great promise to alleviate the residual suffering of "the alcoholic psyche" after, but not before, "the high tide of active alcoholism recedes."

The spiritual path that is so meticulously laid out and explained in the two volumes, if walked day-by-day, promises us a new perspective on life and what it means to be sober, indeed it offers us "a gift that amounts to a new state of consciousness and being." (Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, page 107.)

It is exceedingly difficult and painful, in my experience, to sober up and remain sober without a firm foundation in the 'Big Book.' It is equally difficult and even more painful, I have found, to remain mentally and emotionally sober without a firm foundation in the Twelve and Twelve.

Surrender Part II: Letting Go & Letting God

"When we became alcoholic, crushed by a self-imposed crisis we could not postpone or evade, we had to fearlessly face the proposition that either God is everything or else He is nothing. God either is or He isn't. What was our choice to be?

["Alcoholics Anonymous," page 53.]

Paris Peace Conference, 1919

The First World War (which was known as "the Great War," because it was assumed to be 'the war to end all wars') ended in an armistice or truce, and not a surrender. Afterwards, the representatives of 29 countries met in Pais and hammered out a number of treaties (the "Paris Peace Treaties") that imposed conditions on the defeated nations, including crippling war reparations, that virtually assured that the peace wouldn't last. It didn't.

During the course of the ensuing Second Word War, the leaders of the main Allied Powers met and decided their would only be one condition for ending the war, that being the "unconditional surrender" of the Axis Powers (principally Germany, Italy and Japan).

Japan's "Unconditional Surrender," 1945

It's been said, that Japan, in particular, as the last combatant to surrender, faced the toughest conditions of all in implementing its "unconditional surrender," Their emperor, considered a living God by the people of Japan, had to go on the radio (in itself unheard of) and admit defeat; all of Japan's weapons were then inventoried and turned over to its former enemies; a new constitution was written for it by the Allied Powers (including a provision that it would never rearm); and those leaders that had led Japan into war (who hadn't killed themselves) were tried and executed.

And what was the result? Aid flowed into Germany and Japan as part of the Marshall Plan, and within scant years, each was amongst the richest and most productive economies in the world, and they in turn became not only functioning democracies, but trusted and crucial allies of their former enemies.

Admitting complete defeat, and the unconditional surrender of the right to manage and care for one's own life, is, of course what is necessary for one to enjoy the full promise that the 12 Steps hold out to the newcomer.

"Who cares to admit complete defeat?"

"Who cares to admit complete defeat?," we read in the opening chapter of the Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions. An admission of complete defeat, we read, is necessary because, "We perceive that it is only through utter defeat (that we are) able to take our first steps towards liberation and strength." Like Germany and Japan, we are asked to make an unconditional surrender, in order to access the help that A.A. and its sister programs so gladly offer. ("The war is over," as my first sponsor's sponsor so often said "And the good news is . . . you lost," he always added.)

Then, if we can answer this call for an "unconditional surrender" in the affirmative, we face a number of interrelated questions that are really a subset of that first and all-important questions as to whether we are completely defeated, have "hit bottom," and have admitted that we are "powerless over alcohol" and that "our lives have become unmanageable."

" . . . (F)ew people," we read, " will sincerely try to practice the A.A. Program unless they have hit botton. For practicing A.A.'s remaining eleven Steps means the adoption of attitudes and actions that almost no alcoholic who is still drinking can dream of taking. Who wishes to be honest and tolerant? Who wants to confess his faults to another and make restitution for harm done? Who cares anything about a Higher Power, let alone meditation and prayer? Who wants to sacrifice time and energy in trying to carry A.A.'s message to the next sufferer? No, the average alcoholic, self-centered in the extreme, doesn't care for this prospect - unless he has to do these things in order to stay alive himself."

If we can answer these questions in the affirmative, then we are truly in a position to finally let go of our old ideas and attitudes (our old thoughts and ways of thinking) in order to let that "unsuspected inner resource," which we all have, guide our thoughts and our actions.  (See the Spiritual Experience appendix.)

Yet a lifetime of desperately trying to manage the unmanageable - i.e., trying to manage life - is going to be a hard habit to kick. And, so, Step Three is all about the practice of letting go of our need to act upon the first fear-driven thoughts that pop into our heads, and in relying upon the deeper God-inspired thoughts of our higher consciousness to guide our words and actions.

"It is when we try to make our will conform with God's that we begin to use it rightly," we read in Step Three of the Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions. "To all of us, this was a most wonderful revelation. Our whole trouble had been the misuse of will power. We had tried to bombard our problems with it instead of trying to bring it into agreement with God's intention for us. To make this increasingly possible is the purpose of A.A.'s Twelve Steps, and Step Three opens the door."

The "whole purpose of A.A.'s Twelve Steps" is to get us to exercise our will in conformity with God's will? That is a powerful statement. And, if God is indeed "everything" rather than "nothing," as we read at page 53 in the 'Big Book' of Alcoholics Anonymous, this must mean that we have to bring our will into conformity with the will of the Whole, with the will of "life" itself. That's a tall order. How is it possible?

Thankfully, each of us has a conscience - and are capable of being conscious of that conscience - and, therefore, each time we are about to say something or do something (or refrain from doing or saying something) that will bring us into conflict with the will of the Whole (or the will of God), we are capable of feeling the pangs of conscience. as expressed in our emotions .

In such instances, we will feel wounded pride, greedy, angry, lustful, gluttonous, envious, or tired and slothful, to utilize the range of emotions that go along with the "seven deadly sins" that are discussed later in the Twelve and Twelve. In short, we will again begin to suffer the pangs of "anxious apartness" that arises each time the "self" (or the"ego") feels threatened and seemingly needs to express itself in action or words. And that's where the rest of the "practice" of Step Three kicks in.

At the very end of Step Three in the Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, we read that it is, indeed "easy to begin the practice" of Step Three," for it very much a spiritual practice which is every bit as important to our long-term recovery as is our meditation practice, or our practice of taking a daily inventory. It is through this Third Step "practice," that in each time of "emotional disturbance or indecision, we can pause, ask for silence, and in the stillness" recite the Serenity Prayer.

For it is only in the deeper, higher consciousness of the "God of our own understanding" that serenity is to be found. It is only in going to this deeper, higher consciousness, that we become able to display the "courage" to change the only "thing" that we can - that is, the level of our consciousness. And, it is only in knowing that there is within us each the lower, normal self-consciousness of the human ego, and the higher, deeper consciousness of God, that we begin to actually display "wisdom."

In short, it is in making our decisions about what to say or do (or not say or do) based on this higher, deeper God-consciousness that we begin the practice of "letting go" of our egoic, self-consciousness, and "letting (the) God" of our higher consciousness run the show.

Life is, in fact, unmanageable by our lower, egoic "selves;" and, yet, it requires no management when we are attuned in consciousness to the Higher Power of the Whole, the Ground of Being, or just simply, God. "The war is over," then. "And the good news is . . . you lost!"

Problems of "Fancied Self-Sufficency"

I'm seldom short of astonished when reading the 'Big Book' of Alcoholics Anonymous or the Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions (or, indeed, any of the vast collection of AA material) at just how deeply significant and meaningful the material there is  - particularly the material which I just skimmed over, or just plain missed. in my early sobriety. And to make matters worse, for the first five years of my sobriety I belonged to a group where each week we studied the Twleve Steps and Twelve Traditions. It is truly remarkable how effective the "roadblocks of indifference, fancied self-sufficiency and prejudice" were in my case.

[Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, p 28]

I had been rewarded throughout life for my intellect and, indeed punished (or so I perceived I it)  when my intellect failed me  - by dint not just of my alcoholic addiction, but moreso because of my other glaring character defects, in sobriety, chief amongst them being myself-centered fear about how I was going to get on in this life). Therefore, for many years I was loathe to truly turn my will and life over to the care of a God I did not know, didn't understand and, further, didn't believe in, even though I thought I had.

I was the man whose "instinct still cried out, 'Yes, respecting alcohol, I guess I have to be dependent upon A.A., but in all other matters I must retain my independence.'" After all, who else would be concerned with getting my outside to feel like I supposed the insides of others felt? I was the man dominated by "fancied self-sufficiency," yet wholly oblivious to it.

[Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, pp  35-36.]

In other words, for many years I remained "the actor" carrying on as best I could, but still suffering "from the delusion that (I) could wrest satisfaction and happiness out of this life if (I) only manag(ed) well." I could accept that when I was drinking and drugging life was unmanageable, but I could not understand and accept that life remains "unmanageable" once I put down the bottle and the bag. Wasn't it my job as a newly sober and responsible" alcoholic to manage my life that was formerly unmanageable?

[Alcoholics Anonymouis, page 61.]

In the Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, the discussion of Step Three asks the self-sufficient alcoholic in my situation to look at the so-called "normal' people" and to consider how well they seem to be doing 'managing' a life based entirely on the exercise of their self-will and their own egoic internal direction.

Should his own image in the mirror be too awful to contemplate (and it usually is), "he might first take a look at the results normal people are getting from self-sufficiency. Everywhere he sees people filled with anger and fear, society breaking up into warring factions. Each saying to the others, "We are right and you are wrong. Every such pressure group, if it is strong enough, self righteously imposes its will upon the rest. And everywhere the same is being done on an individual basis. The sum of all this mighty effort is less peace and less brotherhood than before. The philosophy of self-sufficiency is not paying off. Plainly enough, it is a bone-crushing juggernaut whose final achievement is ruin.

[Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, page 37.]

First published in 1952, seven years after World War II and at the height of the ensuing Korean War, is this description not just as valid today? Tuning in to the nightly news, reading the newspaper or watching the behaviour of other drivers in ordinary traffic ought to be enough to convince anyone that it is just a valid description of so-called "normal prople' today, if not more so.

So what is the alcoholic addict to do? We can't drink or drug and we can't just act like other people? How then do we act, ans what do we rely on when figuring out how to act? The answer, as so often is the case in this 'simple program for complicated people' may be found in our very basic principles. "Let Go and Let God" is one of the slogans we may use to great effect. Admit that one is not only "powerless over alcohol," but admit also that one's life has, in fact become unmanageable," and was all along.

Perhaps the best illustration of this idea of 'letting go' and ceasing to struggle to control one's life and the lives of others - even with the best of intentions - is found in the point form summary of our  entire program of "self-examination:, meditation and prayer." At the end of the "How It Works reading, the "three pertinent ideas" speak directly to the truth that life is inherently unmanageable, both before and after we quit drinking.

Our description of the alcoholic, the chapter to the agnostic, and our stories before and after make clear three pertinent ideas:

(a) That we were alcoholic and could not manage our own lives.
(b That probably no human power could have relieved our alcoholism.
(c) That God could and would if He were sought.

 We then read, that "being convinced we were at Step Three, which is that we made a decsion to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understand Him,"  we are now required to understand that "any life run on self-will can hardly be a success." Therefore, for success in attaining and maintaining sobriety, and for living a contented and purposeful life, we need to have or develop a faith (even on a trial basis) that life is already being managed quite well, and that our trying to take over management of it is, at best, superfluous and at worst dangerous .

Take it from this member who came to AA for help with his drinking problem; today, 22 years into my sobriety, the things I have lost in sobriety were the things that I tried to manage the most; while the gifts that surprised me the most, and that I cherish the most, came unexpectedly out of left field.

So when I have a problem today, it is at root a Step One problem. I have moved in to manage some aspect of my life that I have no business running. My stubborn intellectual self-sufficiency has cropped up again, and damn it, this time I'm right!

That's why, no matter how long I'm sober it pays to have a sponsor. He can usually see right through me to the root of the problem - self sufficiency - while I remain opaque.

Surrender Part I: Surrendering Old Ideas

"Some of us have tried to hold onto our 
  old ideas and the result was nil until
  we let go absolutely." ('Big Book' p. 58)

Recovery from alcoholic addiction begins with surrender - letting go of the bottle and our old ideas of how we should live our lives, admitting that we are powerless over our addiction, and that life on the grand scale (and in the minutest detail) is, in fact, inherently unmanageable. Thus, it is no coincidence that the very first concept that Bill W. discusses in the Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions is that of surrender. "Who," he asks, "cares to admit complete defeat?."

We are told in the 'Big Book' of Alcoholics Anonymous (at page 84) that we have "ceased fighting everyone and everything - even alcohol." But is that true for us? The "fight or flight" response is perhaps a human's deepest instinctive drive, and is far more basic than even his or her sexual instincts. It represents survival or 'being' itself.

In the "How it Works" passage that is used to open so many meetings, we hear time and again that "some of us . . . tried to hold onto our old ideas," in fact, "and the result was nil until we let go (of those old ideas) absolutely." Nil, nada, nothing! Nothing changes until we become willing to try and let go of old ideas - all of them - without reservation, and that is a tall order.

But nobody said that complete surrender would be easy, nor did anyone say that we would ever be rid of our old thoughts and thought patterns completely. Rather, we try and rid ourselves of the old ideas and thought patterns instead of holding on to them.

Our "ambition," which is discussed in the closing paragraphs of Step 12 in the Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, is to attain and maintain a conscious contact with the God of our own understanding in order that the "(i)deas, emotions and attitudes" which were once the "guiding forces" of our lives can be "cast aside" in favour of "new motivations and conceptions." ('Big Book,' page 27.) To establish such a 'conscious' contact we must clear our mind of that which already fills our 'consciousness,' i.e., our "old ideas."

But just how do we surrender our old ideas? In order to "practice" Step Three, as it is set out in the Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, we are told that in all times of emotional disturbance and indecision, we can simply "pause, ask for quiet, and in the stillness" recite and contemplate the words of the Serenity Prayer. Yet, while this is critical for times of great turmoil and challenges, how do we practice letting go of old ideas in the mundane moment-to-moment affairs of our daily lives? This is a more subtle question, yet the answer may, in fact, be more crucial for our attaining true peace of mind and the sanity necessary to establish and maintain permanent sobriety and a contented, purposeful life.

In their subtler aspects, Steps One through Step Three are all about responding to life on a different plane of thought than we are used to rather than reacting to life as it is thrown at us. To do this, we need to develop the capacity (through AA's process of interwoven "self-examination, meditation and prayer") to refrain from all actions, at least for a moment, in order to realize that the thoughts coursing through our minds are not 'who' we really are, and that they are definitely not our allies in trying to bend life to how we think we want it to go.

We need to surrender to the facts (i) that  life is inherently unmanageable by any one individual, (ii) that it evolves quite well enough without our grasping for control over it,  and (iii) that we are not our thoughts themselves, but rather the quiet, simple observer of those thoughts. If one is able to surrender one's thoughts and his or her identification with them, one then becomes capable of making peace with both the world,  and with one's true 'Self' which lies beyond the false duality which is mentally manufactured by the small 'self' of the human ego.

REMEMBER: We are not here to bend the world to our own narrow will. Rather we must demonstrate a deep and abiding faith in the infallible rightness of the course of events.

Courage: The Ability to Continue in Spite of Fear

"And acceptance is the answer to all my problems today. When I am disturbed, it is because I find some person, place, thing or situation - some fact of my life - unacceptable to me, and I can find no serenity until I accept that person, place, thing or situation as being exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment. Nothing absolutely nothing happens in God's world by mistake. Until I could accept my alcoholism, I could not stay sober; unless I accept life completely on life's terms I cannot be happy. I need to concentrate not so much on what needs to be changed in the world as on what needs to be changed in me and in my attitudes."

("Acceptance Was the Answer," Alcoholics Anonymous, page 417)

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Of the three attributes that we ask for in the Serenity Prayer - serenity, courage and wisdom - it seems to be courage in the face of our life circumstances, with their messiness, emotional challenges and their sheer, fundamental unmanageability, that is often the most difficult for the alcoholic addict to obtain.

Why this is so, seems to be (a) that courage is almost wholly an internal matter, (b) that sometimes exercising courage goes against our most basic instincts, and (c) courage often calls for us to do or say (or not do or say) something that flies in the face of the life lessons we have learned.

The Japanese have a saying which seems to have universal application: "The nail that sticks up gets hammered down." Oftentimes it is much easier to go along with the crowd, or do what "other people" would do in the same circumstances, but for the alcoholic anonymous trying to live his or her life on a different spiritual plane, such actions may prove fatal.

How many alcoholics have started their last binge because they did not want to stand out as the only person not having a drink at a wedding or a cocktail party? Being "convinced" we are alcoholic addicts requires that we give up the "ideas. emotions and attitudes that were the guiding forces" of our lives, and to adopt wholly new "conceptions and motives" for living our lives.

[Alcoholics Anonymous, p. 27.]

One of the more powerful stories in the back of the 'Big Book' of Alcoholics Anonymous is that of a Vietnam vet and pilot facing a prison term for flying a commercial airliner while under the influence. In the story "Grounded," he writes:

"From somewhere back in high school I remembered a poem that says something like, 'Cowards die a thousand deaths, a brave man only once,' and I wanted to do what had to be done. I was terrified of walking into prison but told my children that I could not come out the back door until I walked through the front. I remembered that courage was not the absence of fear; it was the ability to continue in spite of it."

[Emphasis added.]

 "Courage" - from "cour," the Old French word for 'heart' - means that we have to shift our thinking and identification from our ordinary level of self-consciousness (or "ego" consciousness) to a deeper and higher level of our consciousness and being, and then to base our actions (or refrain from taking action) upon what that higher, God-consciousness dictates.

This, of course, may be the most difficult mental task, especially under unusual and unexpected, emotionally-charged situations. It is a test of both the decision we have made in Step Three to "turn our will and our lives over" to the care of a God we do not and cannot fully understand, and of our entire willingness in Step Six to have our character defects removed. For most of us, we continue to "fall back" upon our old ideas and actions in many of such instances.

In such cases, it is perhaps helpful to re-examine what our Serenity Prayer means, and what it is we are asking for, or seeking, in the most challenging situations we face in our lives.

To me, God, or the deeper level of God-consciousness we are all capable of attaining, is the "serenity" we ask for. The "wisdom" I seek is a recognition that there are at least two distinct levels of human consciousness: the "ego" or "Self," and the higher "Self" or "soul" of a man or woman. And the "courage" I need is to let go of the thoughts and thinking patterns of ego-consciousness in order that the thoughts of God-consciousness may emerge from where they have been obscured.

(Remember that " deep down within every man, woman and child is the fundamental idea of God," although "(i)t maybe obscured by calamity, pomp and worship of other things, but in some forth or other it is there.")

[Alcoholics Anonymous, page 55.]

To face prison, our pilot had to let go of his fears and face the circumstances that caused his fears. That is the very essence of courage. But it does not come easily. "All our instincts" may cry out against what we know we need to do or say in a frightening situation; yet, even in such circumstances it remains a truism that conforming our will to God's will (doing or saying, or not doing or not saying, what is indicated by our higher consciousness) is the better way, and will ultimately result in a better set of circumstances for us, and for everyone else.

"God is either everything or else He is nothing," we read at page 53 of the 'Big Book.' "God either is, or He isn't. What (is) our choice to be?"

Taking the view that God is, in fact, everything, there is then nothing we cannot face, despite all our instinctive drives to avoid our life circumstances. And that is the 'heart' of the 'courage' we are granted through the practical application of the Serenity Prayer. It is what brings us back to the serenity of God.

Yet we are challenged - throughout our recovery - to practice attaining to this higher God-consciousness by disciplining our smaller "selves" through the interwoven practices of "self-examination meditation and prayer." Without such discipline and practice, we may not be able to summon the "courage" to face, and face down, the things we will surely have to.

[Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, page 98.]

Is it Really JUST the 'Big Book' We Need?

One trend I do not remember from when I sobered up 20-odd years ago was the fanaticism over the idea - or the very idea itself - that the 'Big Book' of Alcoholism Anonymous is the "only" text that should be used in sobering up, or in taking a newcomer through the 12 Steps. It seems to me that this somewhat militant stance - directed particularly towards the Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions in my local area in Southern Ontario, Canada - is at once intellectually dishonest, close-minded, and demonstrates an unwillingness to grow beyond the initial working of the Steps as outlined in the 'Big Book,' which is, admittedly, our "basic text."

Without the Twelve Steps and Twelve Tradition, we would not have the all-important Serenity Prayer, nor would we have the 11th Step Prayer. Additionally, the lessons on daily living drawn from essays on how to "practice" Steps 3, 6, 7, and 11 are vital tools in our "spiritual tool-kit."

This does not mean that I don't take sponsees through the Steps as outlined in the 'Big Book,' or don't strongly recommend to other sponsors that this is what they should do, but I (and many, many others) have found the  Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions to be absolutely essential in attaining, maintaining and improving a conscious contact with the God of our understanding - particularly in tough times.

In times of great emotional stress, sometimes the only thing I have to rely on is the Serenity Prayer. In the 'Big Book' of Alcoholics Anonymous, "taking" Step Three is simply described as reciting - some insist on one's knees - the Third Step prayer set out on page 63. Yet, while one snippet from the Third Step Prayer ("relieve me of the bondage of self") is perhaps my most frequent prayer, having once recited that prayer is not sufficient to practice Step 3 months, or years, later. And this is particularly so in times of grave emotional distress. At such times, even having recited the Third Step Prayer in the morning may not suffice.

This is why Bill W. concludes his essay on "practicing" the Third Step in the Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions by recommending that we take the following actions in the times of great difficulties we are bound to face:

'In all times of emotional disturbance or indecision, we can pause, ask for quiet, and in the stillness simply say: "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference. Thy will, not mine, be done."'

 Just as we do not "pause, ask for quiet, and in the stillness" pray just once; neither is what "separates the men from the boys" (according to Bill's "spiritual sponsor," Father Ed Dowling"), the hour we spend at home after sharing our Fifth Step reviewing our progress so far and seeing if we've scrimped anywhere, as Step Six is outlined in the 'Big Book.'

We need to consistently and logically interrelate and weave together the continual process of "self-examination, meditation and prayer" if we are to have "an unshakeable foundation," as it says in Step 11 of the Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions. To do this, the more help the better I say; and it is likely this attitude that prompted A.A.'s commissioning Bill to write down in essay form his thoughts and experiences with the Steps and Traditions in the first place.

We cannot have too much insight into the nature of, and spiritual solution to, our basic problem - ego-centricity - and there are any number of valuable references outside of the 'Big Book' that are of assistance to the newcomer and old-timer alike.

Indeed, in the "Co-Founders of Alcoholics Anonymous" pamphlet, Dr. Bob states quite plainly that he 'cultivated' the habit of reading an average of one hour a day from a variety of sources over the 15 years of his sobriety. (The key concept here being the variety of sources, rather than the amount of time spent reading.)

In its group consciouness, Alcoholics Anonymous saw fit to publish nine separate books and a wide variety of pamphlets, as well as setting up the "Grapevine" and The AA Grapevine Inc., to publish what the General Service Conference recognized as "the international journal of Alcoholics Anonymous," and a treasure trove of other material helpful to the recovering alcoholic addict.

To say that we should narrowly restrict our study to just the 'Big Book' and to shun at all costs the Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions is precisely the attitude that Doctor Bob warned of in his last major talk (published in the "Co-founders" pamphlet), when he observed:

"We are all inclined to have pretty closed minds, pretty tightly closed. That's one reason why some people find our spiritual teaching difficult. They don't want to find out too much about it, for various personal reasons . . . "

Quieting the Mind: 'The Tao of the Doughnut Hole'

To lead a contented and purposeful life, the alcoholic addict in recovery is dependent upon a "spiritual awakening" - the opening up of a 'new' consciousness, beneath and above the internal dialogue of the 'ego,' or what we ordinarily thnk of as self-consciousness - as well as the daily maintenance of the 'spiritual condition' of what is really the 'renewed consciousness' of our fundamental innocence.

I call it a 'renewed,' or 'recovered' innocence  - the two words share a common meaning - because it is an innocence which we have experienced more or less often as children before the onset of the constant internal voice of the ego took firm hold. After all, it is fundamentally this "painful inner dialogue" and the accompanying discomfort of the 'existential pain' of unrelenting self-consciousness that the drink and/or the drugs relieved us of. "We loved the effect alcohol had on us" precisely because of the extemporaneous internal relief from the constant thinking and emotions which arise through our self-consciousness; relief from the sense of being an 'actor' on stage without his or her lines.

But if we are to let go of our "old ideas" and the attitudes that foster them, if we are truly able to admit the fundamental unmanageability of the whole of life by us and "turn our will and our lives over to the care of God" as we understand (or grasp to understand) God, what will become of us?

To accept that we are powerless to run our own lives goes against all the instincts of the ego and the 'lessons' we've learned in life. We have been taught, in a certain sense, that life is a problem to be figured out, and that we must somehow figure out how to figure it out.

Turning our 'will' (our decision-making about what we will do or say) and our 'lives' over to the care of an 'innermost reality' that we have - let's face it - very little understanding of goes against all the inner emotional pressure we face to 'appear' just like so-called 'normal people' and everybody else; that is, firmly in control of ourselves and confident in our inner core at all times. (Small wonder, then, that we so often hear how our fellow alcoholic addicts talking about having wished they felt like other people looked.)

So what is the result of this big, existential and fundamental challenge we face? Usually, unless we can truly "admit complete defeat," as it says in Step One of the "Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions," it is a profound reluctance to "Let Go and Let God," and an internal, reluctant dialogue and rationalization that goes much like this:

"Yes, respecting alcohol, I guess I have to be dependent upon A.A., but in all other matters I must still maintain my independence, Nothing is going to turn me into a nonentity. If I keep on turning my life and my will over to the care of Something or Somebody else what will become of me? I'll look like the hole in the doughnut."

("Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions," page 36.)

And this is the point. The hole is the essence of the doughnut. The rest is eaten, but the hole remains. In turning our will and our lives over to the care of a Power greater than ourselves and our egoic, self-centered thinking are we ready to trust (even on an experimental basis) that we can rely on the essence of our being?

In the great Taoist treatise, Lao Tzu's "Tao Te Ching," we read:

"The thirty spokes converge on one hub, but the usefulness of the cart is a function of the 'nothingness' inside the hub. We knead clay to shape a pot, but the usefulness of the clay pot is a function of the 'nothingness' inside it. We construct windows and doors to make a room, but the usefulness of the room is a function of the 'nothingness' inside it. Thus, it might be 'something' that we attain that provides function and value, but it is by the virtue of  'nothing' that we can put it to use." (Tao Te Ching, XI)

In a very real sense we construct our own mental prison that locks us into our alcoholic, self-centered and self-absorbed attitudes. "What will become of me? I'll be like the hole in the doughnut," the ego cries out. It is precisely this thinking that perpetuates alcoholic suffering, active or inactive.

"This," we read, "is the process by which instinct and logic seek to bolster egotism and frustrate spiritual development." To overcome this process, it is necessary to face and face down our instinctive fears of not being able to survive without trying to exert control over our world and the people in it, To overcome this process we need to slow down and quiet our logical processes that tell us we will find a solution that will take care of our illusory problems if we just give it enough thought.

And it is precisely here that the practice of Step Three needs to kick in. Every time we do not know what to do and our emotions are in overdrive we need to recognize, through the practice of self-examination, just what a perilous situation our egoic minds have once more put us into. Then, just as it says in the "Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions," we are able to pause, recenter on the essence of our being, and from the quiet and stillnes of that essence, simply say:

"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference."

"Thy will, not mine be done."

There is only one thing we can "change" in an instant, and that is the level of our thinking. To know the fundamental difference between the  thoughts of the ego and our inner essence - between the doughnut and the doughnut hole - and to recognize that the function of the quiet void below the raucous 'noise' of the ego is to provide "serenity" and safe haven, is true "wisdom" that is indeed worthy of the Tao.

Restless, Irritable and Discontented . . . "Who Me?"

Once again the topic of "Irritability, Restlessness and Discontent" - the base state of the alcoholic without alcohol or drugs in his/her system - whether still in 'active addiction, or in 'inactive yet untreated' alcoholic addiction (i.e., "dry" sobriety) - came up for discussion at our local discussion meeting. The topic comes from an oft-recited passage from the "Doctor's Opinion" in the introductory section of the 'Big Book' of Alcoholics Anonymous. It reads:

"Men and women drink essentially because they like the effect produced by alcohol. The sensation is so elusive that, while they admit it is injurious, they cannot after a time differentiate the true from the false. To them, their alcoholic life seems the only normal one. They are restless, irritable and discontented, unless they can again experience the sense of ease and comfort which comes at once by taking a few drinks—drinks which they see others taking with impunity. After they have succumbed to the desire again, as so many do, and the phenomenon of craving develops, they pass through the well-known stages of a spree, emerging remorseful, with a firm resolution not to drink again. This is repeated over and over, and unless this person can experience an entire psychic change there is very little hope of his recovery."

("Alcoholics Anonymous," pp. xxviii-xxix.)

In Doctor Silkworth's opinion, this is what keeps drunks picking up "that first drink" (and it is not uncoincidentally, and most often simultaneously, what incites the addict to pick up his pipe or his pills). We like the effect that drink and/or drugs has on us. Without this effect we are, quite literally, 'out of our minds' with a mental restlessness that produces great feelings of irritability and profound discontent. Yet, unless our thinking and attitudes have changed dramatically we have only one solution to this condition . . . and that is to use again.

Most alcoholic addicts continue on this treadmill until it kills them, often after years of great suffering, perhaps with intermittent years "coming in and out" of church basement's where recovery from alcoholic addiction is discussed but not experienced by them. Yet, for some, they experience "an entire psychic change" that allows them to keep their fatal maladay in remission, based upon their attaining and maintaining a certain "spiritual attitude."

But what about the alcoholic addict who has put the bottle and the bag down and is "white knuckling" it? Or, the reformed alkie-addict that has years of not drinking or drugging under his or her belt, has settled for a form of milquetoast sobriety while enjoying the benefits of a chemically sober life, but has settled into a far less purposeful and contented life than is readily possible?

What about the person who remains "restless, irritable and discontent" for years into sobriety, whether this is the result of a lack of true understanding or good sponsorship, an aversion to working the steps or plain old procrastination and laziness, or because he or she has hurriedly dumped all the obsessions of the self-driven mind into their "performance" in another area of life, such as work, physical fitness, or making a lot of meetings just for the sake of the brief respite of Fellowship and "prestige" they might offer?

Let's look at the so-called normal person. Do they not appear to be similarly prone to the same irritability, restlessness and discontent which can become rampant within the rooms of any 12 Step group? Consider the husband and wife who snipe at each other, or the person who tailgates you on the freeway until finally he can zoom past you at twice the speed limit while talking on his cell phone and giving you the American Sign Language salute for "have a nice day"?

Consider ourselves faced with the pressure of the work-a-day problems of everyday living. Are we not all prone to this epidemic of restlessness irritability and discontent in our society? It is all well and good for the "so-called normal person" who will muddle along as best she can, and who may finally find a spiritual solution for her 'problems' as well. But for the alcoholic addict without the eventually fatal luxury of going back to the bottle or back on the pipe, this irritability, restlessness and discontent may very well lead him to buy a bottle, buy a bag, or buy a gun and buy the farm.

Irritability, restlessness and discontent must be addressed with spiritual means, and not tolerated, albeit at a reduced level from what it was when we were full-blown. If not?  It is too often fatal!

But what about the spiritually adept? How does he or she go about weeding out the last roots of this poisonous trio? A start may be made in meditation. I recently read a passage from David Bohm, a renowned theoretical physicist, and an accomplished spiritual aspirant. He talked about how, at the very deepest level of consciousness there is an "emotion of wishing to think."

I know from my own meditation practice what this vague emotional stirring "of wishing to think" feels like. My first meditation teacher (an A.A. old-timer with 35+ years of daily, and intensive, meditation and prayer) taught me that an awareness of this stirring, and a mindful returning to the object of meditation would dissipate that stirring. And it does . . . sometimes. When it doesn't and I break out into full, egoic "think, think, thinking," it is a reminder that meditation is a "practice."

Self-centered, egoic self-consciousness (or "ego consciousness") is the main root of our habitual 'thinking' problem. ("Think, think, think . . . stink, stink, stink . . . drink, drink, drink", I was taught.) And, thus, an awareness of this needing to think, is essential if we are not to break out in full-blown irritability, restlessness and discontent. When in our continuous self-examination, we note these feelings (Step Ten), it is time to affirm that life remains "unmanageable" at the level of the ego (Step One), and that we need to "stop, pause and from the quiet" (Step Three) and affirm and invoke a Power which is greater than "self" to aid us in going forward with serenity and an 'acceptiveness' of life.

We "need more grace," as Rumi - that lover of wine and of life's tavern - noted.