Needing To Know & Needing To Be Right

"Some of us have tried to hold on to our old ideas and the result was nil until we let go absolutely."

Alcoholics Anonymous, "How It Works," p. 58.

I've often heard it said that two of the hardest things to do in life are: (a) to admit we were wrong, and (b) to admit we do not know. Doing either, it seems at first, threatens our instinctive drives for security, sex and society. If we don't know, or if (gasp!) we're wrong, what will become of us?

The first of these challenges, admitting that we were wrong, is explicitly dealt with in Step Ten. When we are wrong, we "promptly admit it." In time, and with practice, admitting we've made a mistake and/or acted wrongly becomes much easier. It is a valuable discipline which leads directly to ego-deflation and self-abnegation (i.e., the "forgetting" of "self").

Dr. Wayne Dyer

'Letting Go and Letting God', as spiritual teacher, Dr. Wayne Dyer, observes, "involves relinquishing ego’s attachment to, or fear of, something. The single most pronounced attachment for most of us during the morning of our lives," he points out, "is the attachment to being right!"

"There’s nothing (the) ego loves more than to be right," Dyer notes, "which makes it an important and satisfying attachment to practice letting go of."

The second proposition - admitting that "we do not know" - is not as explicitly addressed in the Twelve Steps, however. But it is an integral part of the Step One admission that our lives were, are and will remain unmanageable. After all, if we rather than God were omniscient, omnipotent and all-knowing our lives would not be unmanageable, and we would be just fine, thank you. But that is decidedly not how it is.

In his many talks, A.A. pioneer, and author, Chuck C. ("A New Pair of Glasses"), would point out that he was brought up to believe he must "out-think, out-smart and out-perform" all comers in order to get what is needed out of life. He, like all of us, had fallen victim to the "delusion" that all would be well and we could "wrest satisfaction and happiness out of this world if (we) only manage well." ('Big Book,' page 61.) It is this delusion, our pride, and the fear of the unknown that grips us when we encounter the unfamiliar that makes it so difficult to admit, even to ourselves, that we are not all-knowing. 

If we admit that "we do not know" what to do in a situation, "we do not know" the answer to a question, or, perhaps, "we do not know" some key information we think we really should know, how does that make us feel? How does it affect how others will think of us? Are we not somehow diminished in our own eyes and the eyes of others? Isn't such an admission shattering to one's self-confidence? Do we not need to know in order to manage life?

Andrew Cohen, Editor-in-chief,
EnlightenNext magazine.

Paradoxically, as ever, and as counter-intuitive as it seems at first, the admission that "we do not know" is a sign of inner strength and an honest admission of our powerlessness. No one person is omniscient and knows everything he or she might wish, and this despite what he or she wishes to convey to the world. After all, as spiritual teacher, Andrew Cohen, points out, the reality is that "beyond a certain point we do not know, we cannot know, and we do not need to know."

Our readiness and ability to let go of this "need to know" is, thus, like our ability to admit it when we are wrong, a good indicator of our spiritual growth. The ego has a fierce desire to know everything and be right all of the time. In facing, accepting and admitting to others the truths that "we do not know" and/or that "we were wrong" we take giant strides towards curbing our self-righteousness and moving beyond the "small self" of the ego towards the "Authentic Self" which is the core and essence of our Being.

H.O.W. It Works

"We find that no one need have difficulty with the spirituality of the program. Willingness, honesty and open-mindedness are the essentials of recovery. But these are indispensable."

Alcoholics Anonymous (4th ed.), page 568

Referencing the above passage taken from the "Spiritual Experience" appendix to the 'Big Book' of Alcoholics Anonymous, the acronym "H.O.W." (as in "H.O.W. It Works") is often cited as representing the three qualities of mind that are necessary prerequisites for effectively working the AA program and, thus, attaining the spiritual awakening that allows the alcoholic addict to recover from "a seemingly hopeless state of mind and body."

Spirituality, with its ever-deepening understandings,  is by its nature a nuanced phenomenon. There are then, of necessity, both plain and more subtle aspects to all of its dimensions. There are both  conventional and extraordinary, mundane and subtle, layers to all spiritual teachings. To this end, it seems to me that there are both surface and deeper meaning to the requisite qualities of honesty, open-mindedness and willingness. And, of course, even beyond these meanings there are undoubtedly evermore deeper meanings to all three qualities, for in working the Twelve Steps, as in all spiritual practices, "more will be revealed."

“Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it."

- Matthew 7:13-14

Honesty: At the conventional level, becoming honest means that we do no further harm to others by lying, covering up, taking what does not belong to us and being untruthful etc.. Often referred to as "cash register honesty," this level of truthfulness is necessary in order that we can make an admission of powerlessness over alcohol (and/or drugs) and move forward in working the Twelve Steps. It is particularly important as we undertake our moral inventory which is both a 'fact-finding' and 'fact-facing' exercise that is wholly dependent on the alcoholic addict's being honest about the facts of his or her life.

At a deeper level, however, the requisite honesty requires our facing the illusions and delusions that are at the core of our self-centeredness, or ego-centricity. (The ego, in the sense that it is used here and throughout A.A. literature does not mean 'pride, per se, but rather the false sense of 'self'' that is a construction of our ordinary, worldly consciousness.)

Derived from the Latin honestas, which originally designated a plant with semi-transparent seed pods, honesty means to be "free of deceit and untruthfulness" - in this instance, self-deceit. At page 55 in the 'Big Book,' we are assured that "the fundamental idea of God" is deep down within everyone - man, woman and child - but that it is "obscured" by the "calamity, pomp and worship of other things" that are characteristic of most people's ordinary thoughts - i.e., the thought patterns that are characteristic of the human ego, the thought patterns Bill W. called a "painful inner dialogue.". Thus, in this instance, to be honest is to be free from the self-deceit and inherent untruthfulness of our egoic and addictive thought patterns, the fearful thoughts and emotions which block us off from our true inner nature.

In becoming honest and recognizing the "ideas, emotions and attitudes" that habitually veil the divine or spiritual nature of our being, the curtains of "calamity, pomp and worship of other things" are at least temporarily or partially lifted and we can then see and sense the truth of what and who we are. In this sense, we can then truly become "a channel of His peace."

Indeed, in describing the nature of the "spiritual awakenings" that were known to relieve alcoholic addiction, Carl Jung (at page 27 of the 'Big Book') observed that:

"Ideas, emotions and attitudes which were once the guiding forces of the lives of these men are suddenly cast to one side, and a completely new set of conceptions and motives begin to dominate them."

 In this sense, one becomes honest with one's "self."

Open-Mindedness: There are, I have come to realize, at least two facets of being truly open-minded. In the simplest terms, to be open-minded is to be free from the prejudice and contempt we may feel for spiritual and/or religious matters. Most often arising from our skepticism towards religious doctrines or the resentments we hold towards religious institutions, such prejudices (i.e., pre-judgments) must be set aside. Indeed at page 87 in the 'Big Book' we are enjoined to "(be) quick to see where religious people are right."

(In this regard, I note that the very word 'religion' comes from the Latin phrase 're ligare,' which means "to rejoin" or "reunite." In this sense a "religious experience" - as discussed in the second paragraph of the Spiritual Experience appendix - is what reunites the suffering alcoholic addict with the totality of the world and all things, that is God.)

At a deeper level, to be open-minded is to have a clear mind that is free of compulsive thinking and old ideas. In the 'How It Works' reading (from page 55 in the 'Big Book') we are told that many of the early members of A.A. had "tried to hold onto (their) old ideas," but that "the result was nil until they let go absolutely." My experience is that "old ideas" are not only those that I held for years in respect of spiritual, religious and other matters, but they also consist of new ideas that I cannot easily get rid of - thoughts about people, circumstances, ideas and institutions - that occupy my mind unduly.

Like chewing gum, it does not take long for such 'new ideas' to grow old and lose their appeal once I have chewed and ruminated on them for any length of time. Thoughts that frighten me, anger me or provoke envy in me etc., can quickly overwhelm my consciousness, bolstering my ego and separating me from everyone and everything, thereby obscuring that "Great Reality" that exists deep down within (all of) us." Indeed, it is only through the practice of meditation and prayer that we are effectively enabled to rid ourselves of such thoughts, and so improve "our conscious contact" with the God of our own understanding, however we may understand that Being.

Willingness: The conventional meaning of 'willingness,' I believe, is merely the determination to take the steps that others have taken to attain and maintain their sobriety. To this end, the 'How It Works' reading specifically notes that "(i)f you want what we have and are willing to go to any lengths to get it, then you are ready to take certain steps." That includes admitting to one's self that you are alcoholic, to believe (or, at least, be willing to believe) that there is a Power greater than one's self which can restore you to sanity, making the decision to turn one's will and one's life over to the Power of the God of your understanding, and then proceeding with the moral inventory and amends making process laid out in the Twelve Steps. Those who are unwilling, are those who do not want what we have, and thus "are not ready" to work the Twelve Steps . . . at least yet. Their sobriety, if any, is typically tenuous, precarious and desperately uncomfortable. They are in real danger.

At a more fundamental level, an act of one's will is a decision to do something, in this instance to live life one's life on a spiritual basis. (At page 83 of the 'Big Book, we read: "The spiritual life is not a theory. We have to live it." Why? Because life is inherently spiritual. It was the late great spiritual teacher, Krishnamurti, who observed: "We are not human beings having a spiritual experience, but spiritual beings having a human experience.") And living one's life on a spiritual basis requires practice - a practice that starts with Step Three.

"Practicing Step Three," we read in the Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, "is like the opening of a door which to all appearances is still locked and closed. All we need is a key, and the decision to swing the door open. There is only one key, and it is called willingness." This, as above, signifies our decision to take the Twelve Steps in order to walk through that locked door and live a spiritual life.

"Once we have come into agreement with (the steps to be taken)," we read, "it is really easy to begin the practice of Step Three. In all times of emotional disturbance or indecision," (emphasis added), "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."

The serenity, courage and wisdom we ask for are only truly available to us when we effect (or re-effect) a conscious contact with the God of our understanding; that is, when we are released from our ordinary ego-consciousnesss, and thus attain our higher God-consciousness. (The human ego is, by its nature, troubled, frightened and lost, the very antithesis to the serenity, courage and wisdom of higher consciousness.) Dissecting the power of this Serenity Prayer, we can observe that:

• 'Serenity' is the nature of our Being when we shed ordinary, self-consciousness/ego-consciousness and effect a conscious contact with our higher nature - i.e., with God.
• 'Courage' (from the Latin 'cour,' meaning heart) is to change the only thing we can in any instance - that is, to deepen the level of our consciousness. Symbolically it is to shift the center of our consciousness and thinking from the head/ego and its "painful inner dialogue," to the heart/soul (or deeper seat of consciousness) wherein there is a total acceptance of people, circumstances and the world exactly as they are in this instant of time.
• 'Wisdom' is to know, from experience, that there are two wholly different realities within us. One is the ego - i.e., the 'self' or 'self-consciousness - which lies at the root cause of our alcoholic addiction, the reality which we sought to escape from through the use of alcohol and/or drugs. The other is our authentic Being, wherein we are wholly at one (i.e., in communion) with God.

In his last public talk, Dr. Bob pointed to the "absolute necessity" of the teachings that he and Bill W. derived from the Beatitudes, First Corinthians 13, and the Book of James. A close reading of the latter identifies the problem of not just alcoholic addicts, but of all men and women: 

"A double-minded man is unstable in all his ways." (James 1:8)

• So long as we respond to life and act on the basis of our egoic, rather than God-conscious, thinking. We are apt to think, say and do almost anything. Our old ego-centric thinking and ideas will always be prone to lead us back into active addiction. Thus, we must be willing to work the Twelve Steps in order to deflate the ego "at depth." Nothing changes - "the result is nil" - unless we let go of our old ideas and our habitual ego-consciousness.

 "Draw near to God, and God will draw near to you. Wash clean your hands ye sinners. Purify your hearts ye double-minded." (James 4:8)

• "We found that Great Reality deep down within us," we read at Page 55 of the 'Big Book.' Indeed, we are told, "(i)n the last analysis it is only there it may be found." When we shift from the self-consciousness and egoic thinking of our separated "self" to the essence of our Being, we effect a conscious contact with our Higher Power; that is, God "draws near" to us. 
• In Steps Four through Step Nine, and again in Step Ten, we face and face down our narrow "self" and, where possible, we right the wrongs which occurred (or occur) as a result of what is really a soul sickness. Figuratively, we 'wash our hands' and 'clean house.'
• Through prayer and, importantly, through meditation we "purify (our) hearts," letting go of our fear-based egoic consciousness in order to effect God-consciousness. In doing so, we increasingly live a single-minded spiritual life, rather than the unpredictable and injurious life of "the double-minded."

How does it work? It works through "ego-deflation at depth." It works by awakening to the spiritual nature of our Being and the world we live in. It works by turning our will and our lives over ot the care of God as we understand Him. It works by fearlessly facing the proposition that "God is either everything, or He is nothing." God either is, or is not,

What is our choice to be?

It works by trusting God, cleaning house, and helping others . . . . Namaste!

Three Delusions and a Few Conclusions

"(T)he main problem of the alcoholic," we read in the 'Big Book,' "centers in the mind." Why is this apparently so? Firstly, the alcoholic addict may harbor the delusion that, against all evidence, one day he or she may be able to control and enjoy his or her drinking once again. Secondly, there is the delusion that he or she is like other people, or one day will be. And thirdly, there is the delusion that he or she may be able "to wrest satisfaction and happiness out of life" if only he manages well.

The first of these delusions, that the alcoholic addict is one day going to be able to control and enjoy his drinking is belied by the evidence, both personal and anecdotal. No one but the alcoholic addict him or herself can effectually make the diagnosis that he or she is indeed alcoholic. Yet we read in the 'Big Book' of Alcoholics Anonymous that if when drinking you have little or no control over how much you imbibe, or you find that you cannot quit entirely on your own, you are probably alcoholic. Only the alcoholic addict can honestly answer those questions for him or her self. Anecdotally, medical doctors have established that the the phenomenon of craving for more and more booze when a person drinks is limited to one class of drinkers only - alcoholics.

Personally, I know that when I drank (or, in my case, used drugs) I always craved more and more, and that when I wasn't drinking or drugging, my mind was obsessed with just how and when I was going to be able to do so again.  I couldn't control how much I took, nor could I quit entirely on my own, and I thus remain convinced, even after twenty-odd years clean and sober, that I am both physically and mentally alcoholic. The delusion that one day I might be able to drink (or drug) like normal people who do not do so addictively has been smashed.

The delusion that I am like other people, or one day may be, is a delusion that is more subtle and persistent, however. I am not like other people, nor will I be, so far as booze or drugs is concerned, but am I not so in all other respects? Yes, but not exactly.

"Most people," we read at page 60 in the 'Big Book,' "try to live by self-propulsion. Each person is like the actor who wants to run the show, is forever trying to arrange the lights, the ballet the scenery and the rest of the players in his own way." In this respect, we alcoholic addicts, I have come to see are like other people, only more so. Happily, but cautiously, I can say that I am no different from other people in this respect: but most importantly, I know that I am.

An attitude of selfishness, self-centeredness and self-consciousness - the underlying ego identification with whatever we are thinking at the time - we read over and over in the 'Big Book' is the underlying problem of the alcoholic addict. We pray to be relieved of "the bondage of self," we make an accurate moral self-survey and share it, we make amends where possible for the harm we have done when acting on self, and we acknowledge that we are self-centered as we endeavor to be freed from the character defects which make us this way.

This is both a curse and a blessing. Acknowledging that we are "self-centered to the extreme," we can look around and see that most other people are merely 'extremely self-centered.' For most 'normal' people, their self-centeredness works to a greater or lesser degree - and it is usually the latter. But for the alcoholic addict whose two solutions to the innate irritability, restlessness and discontent of egoic self-consciousness is either to drink (and/or drug) or to seek a spiritual solution that will provide us with ease and comfort, such self-centerdeness is, we read, "infinitely grave." Shattering the delusion that we are like other people, or some day will be, is thus imperative if we are to make changes in our lives so that down the road (and, many times, years down the road) we do not run into a seemingly intractable situation in which our only alternative looks like a drink.

On the other hand, knowing that so-called 'normal people' are also predominantly self-centered (or egocentric) confers advantages upon the alcoholic addict in recovery. It allows us to understand the oftentimes peculiar motivations that drives others, it allows us to truly forgive others for their actions that may have hurt us, it allows us to make amends for harm done where we can, and when we are wrong it allows us to promptly admit it. We all, it turns out, have feet of clay.

Lastly, the delusion that we will be able to "wrest satisfaction and happiness out of life" if only we manage well also has to go by the boards. Each of us (and all our loved ones) will struggle, age, get sick and eventually die. Self-centered 'normal' folks will continue to step on our toes. The unexpected will continue to happen. The best laid plans will continue to go awry, and life will continue to be inherently unmanageable. Neither sobriety nor spirituality will make life "manageable." But working the Twelve Steps, if practiced diligently, will make life "acceptable" to us if we allow ourselves to "Let Go and Let God." "Mastery of life," noted an enlightened man, "is the opposite of control."

"Here is the how and the why of it," we read at page 62 of the 'Big Book.' "First of all, we had to quit playing God. It didn't work. Next we decided that hereafter in this drama of life, God was going to be our Director. He is the Principal; we are His agents. He is the Father, and we are His children. Most good ideas," we read, "are simple, and this concept was the keystone of the new and triumphant arch through which we pass to freedom."

We will not be able to control and enjoy our drinking one day, we are not like other people, and our lives do not become manageable by us. The acceptance of these facts of our lives, together with accurate self-survey, prayer, meditation and selfless service to others, however, allows us to live full, God-conscious, productive and loving lives.

Anger: A "Dubious Luxury"

"If we were to live, we had to be free of anger. The grouch and the brainstorm were not for us. They may be the dubious luxury of normal men, but for alcoholics these things are poison."

-- Alcoholics Anonymous, page 66 --

There is, perhaps, no stronger emotion than anger. Fueled by fear, it takes over the individual's mind and body. The option of flight, of turning the other cheek, goes out the window and it is, "Fight! Fight! Fight!" Anger is, thus, the ultimate weapon that the ego wields to capture the unwary individual. And once the monster of anger is set in motion it is virtually impossible to arrest the inevitable blow up.

One could liken the individual's struggle with anger to the struggle with a python. One struggles to get out of its grasp, yet the more one struggles the more the beast tightens its coils until it is literally suffocating.

But why is anger so damaging? Why is it pointed out as the most dangerous of our character defects? Why in our moral inventory are resentments the first thing we deal with?

We read in the 'Doctor's Opinion' that alcoholics are "restless irritable and discontent unless they can again experience the the sense of comfort and ease that comes at once by taking a few drinks - drinks that they see others taking with impunity." When gripped by anger or resentment (which is simply the anger we hold onto over time), the feelings of "irritability, restlessness and discontnet" are incalculably multiplied. The alcoholic addict, if he cannot overcome his anger (or does not strike back at the object of his anger, which is inadvisable) is almost certain to drink and/or use drugs to get rid of the emotional maelstrom that anger engenders.

So how, then, does one deal with anger? Perhaps the answer lies in the quotation from the 'Big Book' of Alcoholics Anonymous, above. If we can recognize anger before it is activated, when it is still either just a "grouch" or a "brainstorm" it is possible for us to deal with anger mindfully. Once our resentments are stoked like a fire, however, the inferno of full-blown anger is nearly impossible to smother.

Our first line of defence against anger is, thus, in listing our resentments in our Fourth Step inventory. When we write down who and what still angers us, identify what causes our resentments, and examine how they affect us, we are then in a position to see the role that we, ourselves, played in past instances of anger. We see that almost inevitably our actions, to some degree or other, have brought on the behaviour that seems to have been directed against us. Knowing, then, that we have been at least in part responsible for how the world treats us, we begin to treat the world itself more charitably. Life is not as serious as our egos make it out to be.

Our second and ultimate line of defense is a reliance on our Higher Power to shape and order our world. Thus, we read in the Third Step essay in The Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions that "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 acceptthe things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference. Thy will not mine be done."

The God of our own understanding is the serenity that allows us to accept the things we cannot change. And who amongst us can change a single outside thing in the moment it takes to say this prayer? The only thing which we can instantaneously change is the state of our consciousness and being. Serenity, is thus the ability to tap into the "unsuspected inner resource" each of us has buried beneath our egoic self-consciousness. Realizing this, we ask for the courage (from the Latin cour meaning 'heart') to go to this deeper, higher consciousness. And, finally, we ask for the wisdom to know that there is a clear difference between our egoic self-consciousness and its cauldrom of fears and desires, and the higher God-consciousness of peace and quiet.

Anger is thus the "dubious luxury" of so-called "normal people." To the extent that they can sustain their anger, so much the better (or the worse) for them; but we need not suffer. Clearing away the wreckage of old resentments allows us the psychic room to effectively utilize the "spiritual toolkit" we learn in sobriety, knowing that "this too shall pass" - albeit quickly or slowly. And, if that is so, why not let it pass quickly?

The 'Three Delusions'

There are 'three delusions' - actually one illusion, and two delusions - specifically referenced in the 'Big Book' of Alcoholics Anonymous. The 'first delusion' speaks to the first part of Step One (that we are "powerless over alcohol"), the 'second delusion' speaks to both parts of the First Step, while the 'third delusion' addresses the last half of the First Step (that our lives have become, are, and remain "unmanageable"). An understanding of all three delusions is critical if we are to work the rest of the 12 Steps to the best of our abilities.

The 'first delusion' is in the first paragraph in the chapter entitled "More About Alcoholism," in which we read: "The idea that somehow, someday he will control and enjoy his drinking is the great obsession of every abnormal drinker. The persistence of this illusion is astonishing. Many pursue it into the gates or insanity or death." (Emphasis added.) For the real alcoholic (or alcoholic addict) this illusion can entirely stymie all attempts at recovery, and may prove fatal if the victim of this delusion is unable because of it to move beyond his or her craving for alcohol.

In The Doctor's Opinion preface to the 'Big Book' we read: "We believe . . . that the action of alcohol on . . . chronic alcoholics is a manifestation of an allergy; that the phenomenon of craving is limited to this class and never occurs in the average temperate drinker. These allergic types can never safely use alcohol in any form at all, and once having formed the habit and found they cannot break it, once having lost their self-confidence, their reliance upon things human, their problems pile up on them and become astonishingly difficult to solve." (Emphasis added.)

A true alcoholic addict "can never safely use alcohol in any form at all." The illusion that he or she may once again control and enjoy his drinking has thus got to be thoroughly and wholly smashed. Do not perish under the delusion that you may one day be able to drink again, just like old times. At the end of your active addiction it did not work anymore, nor will it work if you resume where you left off.

The 'second delusion' is set out in the second paragraph of the "More About Alcoholism" chapter. New paragraph; new idea. In it, we read: "We learned that we had to concede to our innermost selves that we were alcoholics. This is the first step in recovery. The delusion that we are like other people, or presently may be, has to be smashed." (Emphasis added.)

This 'second delusion' is, as stated above, pertinent to both the first and second halves of Step One. There is an old saying in A.A. that once a cucumber becomes a pickle it can never become a cucumber again. This is illustrated by the story (at pages 32-33) of the man who quit drinking at age thirty, only to retire and commence drinking again at age fifty. Within two months of doing so he was promptly hospitalized for alcoholism. His story illustrates how the physical allergy never goes away and, so it seems, in our experience the untreated obsession for alcohol only grows worse with time and never better.

On a more subtle level, however,  this 'second delusion' speaks to the unmanageability of our lives. "Selfishness" or  "self-centeredness," we read at page 62 of the 'Big Book' "is the root of our troubles." And, we read elsewhere that "the alcoholic is an extreme example of self-will run riot." Looking back, each time we came to were we not a little bit more self-absorbed? Was the painful inner dialogue of "self" or the "ego" not a little more strident and painful? After years and years of escaping that painful inner dialogue of self though the bottle (and or drugs), in recovery we are faced with an inner dialogue that is seems to be much, much stronger and more unsettling than it is for the so-called 'normal' person. Does this not resonate with how we know ourselves to be?

In sobriety, desparately trying to 'manage" that which seems to be (and is) unmanageable - i.e., life, all of it - is our inner narrative not so painful that it leads many to try and drown out such thoughts once more with booze and/or drugs? All too often - and sometimes fatally - this seems to be the case.

The 'third delusion' is found after the description of the alcoholic as "an actor" on pages 60 and 61 of the 'Big Book.' In the middle paragraph on page 61, we read: "What is (the alcoholic's) basic trouble? Is he not really a self-seeker even when trying to be kind? Is he not a victim of the delusion that he can wrest satifaction and happiness out of the world if only he manages well?" (Emphasis added.)

Life is inherently unmanageable, we will come to see. Who can immediately change the circumstances that befall him or her? No one, of course. Who can shape how others act and react to their circumstances. Again, the answer is no one. Yet, at a very subtle level, the alcoholic addict still mired in habitual, self-centered alcoholic thinking thinks he can and must somehow control the uncontrollable.

If we can see through the delusion that we can somehow "wrest satisfaction and happiness out of the world" by managing well, we come to the point where we can, effectively and in reality, "turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understand Him." Until we do so, we are left helplessly on our own trying to manage the unmanageable through the application of our self-centered will as best we can. This is the height of the insanity of alcoholism, even in sobriety. It drives many mad unless, and until, it is overcome.

Unless we see through the 'first delusion' we cannot stay sober. Unless we smash the 'second delusion' we may stay sober, but we will remain trapped within the insanity of our old ways of thinking. But once we accept and see through all 'three delusions' we can - and will - be enabled to live in what Bill W. describes as "the Sunlight of the Spirit." We will have recovered from "a seemingly hopeless state of mind and body."

As a Man Thinketh, So Is He

Today's Thought from Hazelden: September 7, 2011

"As we think, so we become."

"We can enrich our interior monologue. We can seek the company of people who inspire us with a loving approach to life. We can absorb the written thoughts of writers who encourage our positive emotions. We can decide to be cheerful and optimistic, just for today."

"Whom would you rather be around - someone who chronically complains and talks about what a mess everything is, or someone who finds joy and delight in watching the antics of two squirrels in a tree? You are your constant companion. Your own company can be a pleasure or a drag, depending on the thoughts and feelings you permit to linger in your consciousness."

"We take Steps Four and Five in order to sort out our thoughts, getting rid of those that depress our spirit. In Step Ten, we continue a daily mental housecleaning so that residues of resentment and discouragement are not allowed to accumulate. Then we go on to Step Eleven for an infusion of the kind of thinking that nurtures the person we want to become."

"Today, I will exercise my freedom of thought."

"As a man thinketh in his heart so is he," observes James Allen in his classic work, "As a Man Thinketh." Taken from Proverbs 23:7, this aphorism may at first be a revelation for persons who believe that they have no control over how and what they think. Experience with taking and sharing a moral inventory, with making amends for wrongs done, and, most importantly, with prayer and meditation shows us that this is just not true.

To affect a conscious contact with the God of our own understanding, requires the disciplining of our consciousness itself, and the experience of millions, inside and outside 12 Step recovery groups, show that this is eminently possible using the methodology of the Steps or other disciplines. (Remember, A.A. and its sister organizations "have no monopoly" on spiritual awakening.)

"Man is made or unmade by himself," Allen points out. "(I)n the armory of thought he forges the weapons by which he destroys himself. He also fashions the tools with which he builds for himself heavenly mansions of joy and strength and peace. By the right choice and true application of thought, man ascends to the Divine Perfection; by the abuse and wrong application of thought, he descends below the level of the beast. Between these two extremes are all the grades of character, and man is their maker and master."

In the "How It Works" reading, we hear, but perhaps overlook, the warning: "Many of us tried to hold onto our old ideas and the result was nil until we let go absolutely." If we are to remain sober and live contented sane lives, we must not only let go of our old ideas, but our entire old way of ego-centric thinking. We must be able to free ourselves from the painful inner dialogue of self-consciousness in order to access the underlying God-consciousness which is the natural basis of our human condition.  And it is by "the right choice and application of thought" that we do so."

Today, have I chosen to let go of the inner dialogue of self in favour of communion with the God of my understanding? Have I taken the quiet time to commune with and rest in the divine? As I go out from my time of quiet meditation will I be attentive to the thoughts of self-consciousness and let them go as they arise? Today, will I manifest the insanity of the ego or will I strive to remain within the sanity of a higher God-consciousness?

Ego, Humility and Grace

"By this time in all probability we have gained some measure of release from our more devastating handicaps. We enjoy moments in which there is something like real peace of mind. . . .Where humility had formerly stood for a forced feeding on humble pie, it now begins to mean the nourishing ingredient which can give us serenity."

"This improved perception of humility starts another revolutionary change in our outlook. Our eyes begin to open to the immense values which have come straight out of painful ego-puncturing."

-- The Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, page 74 --

In a very real sense, Step Seven is the completion of the second half of Step One: Having admitted we could not manage our own lives - let alone life itself - and having determined to turn our will and our lives "over to the care of God as we understood him," we now confirm our decision to leave the management of life at that level, rather than vainly resuming the practice of managing life ourselves. This is ego-deflation at depth, and "painful ego-puncturing" at that, as we have been trained all of our lives that we must manage everything - or else!

At first the practice of humility is frightening. "What will become of me if such-and-such happens?" we ask ourselves, only to see in time that things never happen in precisely the way we imagine them and that, in most instances, our fears never materialize. We experience great pain, however, because we - or rather our egoic inner dialogue - assume that they will.

This, process of fear, desire and suffering continues just so long as we identify with the ego and believe whatever it thinks. The moment we realize that we are not the ego - that we are not whatever thought pops into our heads - the suffering stops. Yet it resumes immediately once we lose that awareness. Thus, the practice of Step Seven is repeatedly turning our will and lives over to the care of our Higher Power, and not just in making a decision to do so. In time we will become evermore humble in the truest sense of the word, in that we will be increasingly free of our egoic "self," and each time we experience suffering it will become a sign that we once more need to center ourselves in order to "Let Go, and Let God."

"For us," we read in Step Seven, "this 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 groveling despair." (Emphasis added.) Fortunately, however, we eventually learn that the requisite degree of humility needed to overcome the ego may "come quite as much from our voluntary reaching for it as it could from unremitting suffering."

"A great turning point in our lives," we read, "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 commence to see the full implication of Step Seven: "Humbly asked Him to remove our our shortcomings."" For, in the end, we can only find grace within God, and it is in practicing Step Seven that we are freed from the egoic self and obtain to that level of grace with its ensuing peace of mind.

[The Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, pages 72 and 74]

Power, Coercion and Acceptance

In yet another paradox, the first half of Step One - the admittance that we are alcoholic - is perhaps the easiest one to take, yet admitting (and acting like one has admitted) that our lives "have become unmanageable" - the second half of Step One - is perhaps the most difficult of all. After all, from our earliest years on, we have been taught by our society and culture that life needs to be managed, and managed well - or else!

The great analogy of the alcoholic as "the actor" who insists on running all of the show, including, lights, scenery, ballet etc., is startlingly apt when we consider it deeply and see that it addresses the second half of Step One explicitly and directly.

"Most people try to live by self-propulsion," we read on page 60 of the 'Big Book' of Alcoholics Anonymous. "Each person is like an actor who wants to run the whole show, is forever trying to arrange the lights, the ballet, the scenery and the rest of the players in his own way. If only his arrangements would stay put, if only people would do as he wished, the show would be great. Everybody, including himself, would be pleased. Life would be wonderful. In trying to make these arrangements our actor may sometimes be quite virtuous. He may be kind, considerate, patient, generous, even modest and self-sacrificing. On the other hand, be may be mean, egotistical, selfish and dishonest. But as with most humans, he is more likely to have varied traits.

"What," we are asked, "Usually happens? The show doesn't come off very well. He begins to think that life doesn't treat him will. He decides to exert himself more. He becomes on the next occasion, still more demanding or gracious, as the case may be. Still the play does not suit hum. Admitting he may be somewhat at fault, he is sure that other people are more to blame. He becomes angry, indignant, self-pitying. What is his basic trouble? Is he not a self-seeker even when trying to be kind. Is he not a victim of the delusion that he can wrest satisfaction and happiness out of this life if he only manages well? Is it not evident to all the rest of the players that these are the things he wants? And do not his actions make each of them wish to retaliate, snatching all that they can get out of the show? Is he not, even in his best moments, a producer of confusion rather than harmony?

"Our actor is self-centered - ego-centric, as people like to call it today." (Emphasis added.)

Bluntly, or perhaps very, very, subtly, almost everyone of us - alcoholic addict and non-alcoholic addict alike -  try in our own ways to manipulate and shape life in order to satisfy our instinctive drives, staunch our fears, and/or quench our fundamentally unquenchable desires. We in A.A. (or any of its many sister organizations) are very fortunate, indeed, in that we learn that life is inherently unmanageable, it is already organized under a far Higher Power that we often cannot or do not see, and that our task is to accept and adapt ourselves to life, rather than trying to bend it to our own narrow self-interests.

That our futile grabs for power to control the fundamentally unmanageable is all-pervasive, and ultimately futile and frustrating is illustrated in the following passages written by the late, great Sufi teacher, Idries Shah:

"Almost all human organizations," Shah notes, "are power organizations."

"Since the receipt and and exercising of power is imagined to be connected with forceful behaviour," he observes, "people cannot any longer identify a power organization. Consequently they do not understand what they are doing and what is happening to them."

"As an example," he points out, "force and influence are contained in the 'emotional blackmail' situation to exactly the same extent as in one where anger or fothrightness are expressed."

"When people in authority have the reputation for being kind and soft-hearted, others assume (quite wrongly) that the pressure exerted by such people is not pressure at all. If someone says: 'You must do this because I would be disappointed if you did not,' he is saying exactly the same as 'Do this because I demand that you do it.'"

"To say that this fact has been observed already is of no importance whatever, because something which has been said or observed and not acted upon is as good as non-existent as a lesson."

"People try to exercise power upon those 'below' them," he notes. "But people upon whom power is supposed to being exercised are, in fact, by frustrating the effect of that power, themselves exercising power."

"Power situations can only exist," Shah observes, "where there is a contract arrived at violently or otherwise, in which people will do things or else things can be made uncomfortable for them. 'Do this or I will make you uncomfortable' is the formula for both types of power: the power exerted by people above on those below, and the power exerted from the people below upon those above."

"Where there is no such contract," he notes, "where one party can do without the other, NO POWER SITUATION CAN EXIST. Neither can it be deemed to exist. But, faced with a situation in which there is no power ingredient, people CONTINUE TO BEHAVE AS IF THEY CAN COERCE OR BE COERCED."

"In doing this," Shah points out, (people) give themselves away. To any observer who is aware of the power phenomenon, they clearly show that they belong to the power structure and want to operate it. They generally become furiously angry when this is pointed out to them.

[Idries Shah,"Knowing How to Know," pp. 79-80.]

At Step Three, we make a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understand Him. Yet, how often when we are in a situation where there is no effective power that we can personally exert ("a situation in which there is no power ingredient," to use Shah's terminology) do we act as if there is some personal power we can exert to change things? How many of us lean on the horn to let out our frustrations when stuck in slow traffic? How many seethe inwardly or act rudely when forced to wait at the checkout counter as a clerk checks the price of some item or another? How many of us are judgmental and inwardly self-righteous when they see people doing things that they assure themselves they would never do? Almost all of us, I am sure.

Having nominally accepted our personal powerlessness to manage life, and having done (we assure ourselves) our best to turn our will and our lives over to the care of a Power greater than ourselves, we continue to forget our personal inability to manage life and, in accordance with Khan's analysis, we continue to behave as is we can coerce others to bend to our will, or we ourselves continue to be coerced to bend to the will of others.

Accepting the inherent unmanageability of life, and turning our will and our lives over to the care of the God of our understanding - and leaving it there - are ideals that take both great insight and years of practice to even approach.

Letting Go of Anger and Emotional Disturbances

"It is a spiritual axiom that every time we are disturbed, no matter what the cause, there is something wrong with us. If somebody hurts us and we are sore, we are in the wrong also. But are there no exceptions to this rule? what about "justifiable" anger? If somebody cheats us, aren't we entitled to be mad? Can't we be properly anger with self-righteous folk? For us of A.A. these are dangerous exceptions. We have found that justified anger ought to be left to those better qualified to handle it."

-- The Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, page 90 --

Why this "spiritual axiom?" Is it not because anger, and particularly "justified" anger, is inimical to our spiritual health and is always poised to delver us back into "the bondage of self" which lies at the root of our problem?

Each time we are "disturbed" - whether by anger, greed, jealousy lust, or some other emotion - it is a sure sign that we have a Step One problem; that is, we are right in there, again, trying to manage our lives (and the people in our lives) in a futile search for self-satisfaction and ego-gratification. In the famous passage on acceptance (at page 417 of the 'Big Book' of Alcoholics Anonymous), we read that:

"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." (Emphasis added.)

Notice that in both these passages we are talking of being "disturbed."  Identifying and recognizing when, in fact, we are disturbed is thus the key to dealing with an ever-varying world that is beyond our capacity (or calling) to manage and control. The solution to this Step One problem thus lies in the renewed application of Step Three. When we realize that we are disturbed, we need to act on our decision "to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God" as we understand Him. But how should we act in the face of such disturbances? Fortunately, we have instructions on what to do in such instances.

"(I)t is really easy to being the practice of Step Three," we read. "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.""

[The Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, pp. 40-41.]

There is nothing we can "change" in an instant other than our attitude - i.e., the level of our consciousness and thought. Thus, when disturbed we need to immediately move from the egoic resistance to life's circumstances, to higher consciousness and an acceptive, radical non-resistance to what is. ("To argue with 'what is' is insanity," said the philosopher-Emperor, Marcus Aurelius, "yet the thoughtless cannot resist doing so.")

Next, we must have the "courage" - which may only be found beyond the fear-based ego - to make the switch from egocentric to God-centric consciousness. Here, we must "take heart," which is the fundamental meaning of 'courage', a word that comes from the French and Latin word for 'heart' - 'cour.' ("Fearlessness," Gandhi observed, "is the first requirement of spirituality. A coward can never be moral.")

Lastly, we must know "the difference" between what we can and cannot change at the moment we are disturbed. It is, thus, essential that we know there is the small "self" of ego-consciousness, and the higher "Self" of God-consciousness, and that there is a vast different to the thought processes and emotional reactions of both states. For it is only in this latter 'self-less' state that we can "accept that person, place, thing, or situation" which disturbs us "as being exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment."

At Step Three in the 'Big Book' we read:

"This is the how and why of it. First of all, we had to quit playing God. It didn't work. Next, we decided that hereafter in this drama of life, God was going to be our Director. He is the Principal; we are His agents. He is the Father, and we are His children. Most good ideas are simple, and this concept was the keystone of the new and triumphant arch through which we passed to freedom."

"When we sincerely took such a position, all sorts of remarkable things followed. We had a new Employer. Being all powerful, He provided what we needed, if we kept close to Him and performed His work well. Established on such a footing we became less and less interested in ourselves, our little plans and designs. More and more we became interested in seeing what we could contribute to life. As we felt new power flow in, as we enjoyed peace of mind, as we discovered we could face life successfully, as we became conscious of His presence, we began to lose our fear of today, tomorrow or the hereafter. We were reborn."

 Thus, if we ignore the "spiritual axiom" that in all instances of emotional disturbance it is we who are upset, all this falls away, and we are once again assuming sole responsibility to manage and direct a life which will immediately and rapidly spiral out of all control, resulting in emotional outbursts and actions we will later regret and have to make amends for - or it may result in much, much worse.

On Overcoming Remorse and Self-Loathing

In the 'Big Book' of Alcoholics Anonymous, one of the most prominent but least discussed aspects of the alcoholic addict's dilemma is the crushing shame and remorse that he or she feels for their actions when they are not tied directly to another person. Of course, Steps Five through Step Nine deal minutely with the whats, whys, whens and hows of making amends for harm done to others, but little is said about the "free-floating" remorse and self-loathing generated by years of alcoholic addiction.

Sometimes one hears that "the first amends I had to make were to myself," or worse, that "the 12 Steps are a selfish program." Of course, nothing could be farther from the truth. The basic problem of the alcoholic addict is that he or she is utterly self-absorbed and self-centered to the extreme, and a radical process of "ego-deflation at depth" is needed if he or she is to recover.

"Selfishness," we read, "self-centeredness! That we think is the root of our troubles. Driven by a hundred different forms of fear, self-delusion, self-seeking and self-pity, we step on the toes of others and they retaliate. . . . So our troubles, we think, are basically of our own making. They arise out of ourselves, and the alcoholic is an extreme example of self-will run riot, though he usually doesn't think so. Above everything, we alcoholics must be rid of this selfishness. We must or it kills us!"

[Alcoholics Anonymous, p. 62.]

How then, are we to be rid of the remorse and self-loathing for the seemingly horrible things we have done that did not directly, or even indirectly, affect others? How do we account for those actions at which we shudder when we remember: "Yes, I did that?"

The solution to this dilemma is found in taking and then sharing our Step Four inventory. "Being convinced," we read, "that self, manifested in various ways, was what had defeated us, we considered its common manifestations."

 [Alcoholics Anonymous, p. 63.] 

In regards to our "moral inventory," we read: "The first thing apparent was that this world and its people were often quite wrong." But, we continue reading, "(t)o conclude that others were wrong was as far as most of us ever got."

"The usual outcome" of this, we read, "is that people continued to wrong us and we stayed sore. Sometimes it was remorse and then we were sore at ourselves. But the more we fought and tried to have our own way the worse matters got. As in war, the victor only seemed to win. Our moments of triumph were short-lived." (Emphasis added.)

[Alcoholics Anonymous, pp. 64-65.]

Thus, rather than making amends to one's self, one takes a moral inventory of one's self, highlighting the remorse we feel for our actions that did not affect others as resentments we hold against ourselves. We are told that "an alcoholic in his cups is an unlovely creature," and we need highlight those most unlovely incidents not affecting others that we have nonetheless come to abhor.

The other place where we deal with remorse is in listing our fears, for each of us holds memories of what we have done unwitnessed that we live in dread of ever having exposed. Who, at first, has not thought, "if only they knew . . ."?

Rather than holding some vague and fallacious idea that somewhere in Step Nine we need to "make amends to ourselves," it is rather in Step Five where we admit "to ourselves, to God and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs" that we earn freedom from our remorse and self-loathing.

Most often, we will find that are personal peccadilloes are not so unique, and that they vary only in kind rather than in quality to those "wrongs" committed by others. That, at least, has been my experience.

Moreover, such personal and dreadful incidents, once shared, lose their power over us. If we think of them at all, we are no longer filled with remorse, but rather we are in a position to use them to demonstrate to another alcoholic addict that they, too, are not as "bad" or "unique" as they may believe themselves to be. Our most shameful memories, are thus turned into assets we can use to help others.

On Attachment and Addiction: What Would Buddha Do?

For some, it may be helpful to understand a little of what Buddhist teachings and an Eastern perspective have to say about addiction, as addiction to thoughts, emotions, people, places, and things, in general, are said to be the "root of suffering" in the Buddha's teaching.

In the attached video, Ram Dass (the former Harvard psychiatrist and spiritual teacher, who is no stranger to addiction himself) examines addiction, and its "root cause," our attachments to our mistaken thoughts about just 'who' we are and 'what' will ultimately make us happy.

Ram Dass

"When you look at addictions," says Dass, "it's not like 'evil,' it is just an attempt to 'get back.' The problem is that most behaviours that get you back. . . . It's like Maharaji (Mahesh Yogi) said about drugs. He said, "It will allow you to be in the presence of Christ, but you can only stay two hours." He said, "It would be better to become Christ than to visit it.". . . . And that's what you find out with most addictive things, that they give you a short rush, but they don't allow you to remain 'at home.' They just allow you the taste of it. And then the minute you get thrown out  . . You go back to heaven, but you can't stay because you didn't come in through the right way."

"You end up feeling like, 'I've done something wrong; I'm bad.' And that starts a reaction of mind. You come down, then you feel guilt. 'I must be bad.' 'I should of done something else.' 'Why didn't I do the practices that would have allowed me to stay there, rather than the thing that's short-term?' Because you see your predicament."

"What happens is that the opportunity for the immediate gratification. . . . In psychology, the choice of the 'little candy bar now,' or the 'big candy bar later' . . .  With little children they'll always grab the 'little candy bar now,' because they want what they can get now. They don't have any delay of gratification. And spiritual practices, compared to having sex, or compared to taking coke or something, is more like delayed gratification, rather than immediate gratification."

"So," he says, "when you start to stand back and see your predicament, and see what you are doing, there is a way from a spiritual perspective in which you begin with that slight bit of awareness to extricate yourself from the 'chain of reactivity' (that feeds one's addictive thought-habits)."

"To the unawakened mind," says the Buddha, "life is dhukka, suffering. The root cause of suffering is our addiction or aversion to what we think will makes us happy." And, says the Buddha, "to end the suffering, one must end the addiction, the craving and clinging to what we think will bring happiness." And to end that addiction, he too, like Ram Dass 2,500 years later, recommends a spritual practice. In the Buddha's instance, forming right views and right understanding; engaging in right speech, right action' right livelihood and right effort; and, practicing right meditation and right contemplation."

And such seems to be the shared experience and lessons garnered by alcoholic addicts in the fellowship of Alcoholics Anonymous, or its sister programs. In the "We Agnostics" chapter in the 'Big Book' of Alcoholics Anonymous, we read:

"If, when you honestly want to, you find you cannot quit entirely, or if when drinking, you have little control over how much you take, you are probably alcoholic. If that be the case, you may be sufferinfg from an illness which only a spiritual experience will conquer."

["Alcoholics Anonymous," page 44. Emphasis added.]

 Thus, for millenia, the teaching has proven true, that addictions of the mind and the body, may be broken through spiritual practice and the resultant spiritual awakening which comes with practicing spiritual principles.