Assisted Living

I looked at my page stats in some amazement to see continuing page views in the total absence of any output. Someone is reading this but I have no idea who. I don't know if it's a technical problem or some other cause, but there are no comments on my posts and no emails either. So, absent any feedback, I'll just continue blogging away on unrelated topics.


At today's meeting an older woman shared the major changes in her life as she moves into an assisted living facility after the death of her husband. She spoke of how grateful she was that there were people who now look after her needs freeing her from the anxiety of caring for herself as her health declined.

A young woman spoke after her and comments that she would like to move there herself, and I realized that most of us would love to be in that state, but none of us would be willing to give up the control of our lives that would be sacrificed to do so.

We were born dependent and it's a natural state to which we all long to return. But I believe that impulse comes from a need to be feel assured that our needs will be met while still maintaining our freedom. Adolescent rebellion comes when the need for autonomy begins to conflict with parental care. Of course, adolescents still seek assisted living in their total surrender of autonomy to their peers. 

There has been no time in my life when I did not need assistance to live. But, unwilling to give up total control of my life, I found the feeling of security in drugs and alcohol. Again, the conflict between security and autonomy.

Trusting in a higher power I have found complete freedom and complete autonomy. I live in assisted living facility today: God who both cares for me and frees me.

"[p]rocrastination... is just sloth in five syllables." 12 & 12 pg. 67

I usually find that one of the best motivations to change a negative behavior is having to make amends for it often. In my case I am finding that I have to apologize for neglecting my blog. Of late I have been doing some online courses that I thoroughly enjoy, but that's just an excuse not a reason.

And as painful as it is to say, I have become restless with this format, having to say something cogent about each section of the book, especially when there are more interesting things I want to write on.

So, with no further fanfare, I am detouring from our original course and intend to write about things that are at the front of my mind, especially good things I hear at meetings even when I am not the one saying them. So the next post today will be in that vein.

If you want me to return to the old format please let me know. If you don't want to comment on the blog feel free to email me at sclarkaz@gmail.com.

By the way, I got a year in a couple of days ago. It was humiliating and humbling picking up that chip. But it was apparent that everyone still cared about me and that made it all a lot easier.

How do "we" understand "Him?"

Yes, we of agnostic temperament have had these thoughts and experiences. Let us make haste to reassure you. We found that as soon as we were able to lay aside prejudice and express even a willingness to believe in a Power greater than ourselves, we commenced to get results, even though it was impossible for any of us to fully define or comprehend that Power, which is God.

Much to our relief, we discovered we did not need to consider another's conception of God. Our own conception, however inadequate, was sufficient to make the approach and to effect a contact with Him. As soon as we admitted the possible existence of a Creative Intelligence, a Spirit of the Universe underlying the totality of things, we began to be possessed of a new sense of power and direction, provided we took other simple steps. We found that God does not make too hard terms with those who seek Him. To us, the Realm of Spirit is broad, roomy, all inclusive; never exclusive or forbidding to those who earnestly seek. It is open, we believe, to all men.

When, therefore, we speak to you of God, we mean your own conception of God. This applies, too, to other spiritual expressions which you find in this book. Do not let any prejudice you may have against spiritual terms deter you from honestly asking yourself what they mean to you. At the start, this was all we needed to commence spiritual growth, to effect our first conscious relation with God as we understood Him. Afterward, we found ourselves accepting many things which then seemed entirely out of reach. That was growth, but if we wished to grow we had to begin somewhere. So we used our own conception, however limited it was. Alcoholics Anonymous, pp. 46-47

The importance of this passage can not be overestimated. In these three paragraphs is encapsulated the single most important part of the AA message: God as we understand Him.

I am of the opinion that the theme of the Second Step is open-mindedness. Many, if not most  alcoholics are obstinate, closed-minded bundles of resentment when they get here. I certainly was. This chapter seeks to melt the alcoholic's icy wall of resistance by exploiting whatever sliver of open-mindedness resulted from his self-imposed crisis. It is an appeal to lay aside prejudice.

To do this, it is first necessary to emphasize the broad, roomy and all inclusive nature of the invitation. As we often say, "You can always tell an alcoholic, you just can't tell him much." So we are quick to point out that, even with a limited conception, there are immediate results.

Here I want to spell out in some detail what this passage does and, as importantly, what it does not say. 

 

Roomy and all inclusive 

"... we had to begin somewhere." In order to reach a goal it is first necessary to define that goal. But it is equally important to locate the starting point. For the newcomer that starting point is whatever limited and incomplete conception of a Power greater than himself he might have. There can be no other. But is is vital that the newcomer at the very least define for himself just where that is. It's an early exercise in humility that would have been impossible for most of us had we not experienced a crushing defeat.

What it clearly does NOT say is that refusing to grow beyond this point is somehow preferable. The passage makes very clear that this is the beginning of growth. I find it disturbing that many members with long term sobriety make a big show of how nebulous and ill-defined their conception remains. And there is a subtle disapproval directed at anyone who dares to talk about how they have begun to accept things which had once seemed entirely out of reach. It wrongly implies that the starting point is the destination.

 Open-mindedness

I like this quote from G. K. Chesterton:

Merely having an open mind is nothing. The object of opening the mind, as of opening the mouth, is to shut it again on something solid.

My spiritual path consisted first of all in examining the premises of the faith I was raised in, namely evangelical protestantism. I laid aside prejudice and tried to define what these things meant to me. I was soon able to accept much of them even though I still struggled with some. But in order to gain full benefit from this I found it useful to immerse myself in that spiritual atmosphere. This I did, resulting in an unnecessary separation from AA for a time. When I returned I had a much, much clearer of what I did and did not believe. I continued on this path and ultimately found myself in the Roman Catholic church. That was certainly acceptance of a slew of things I had considered out of reach at one time. (Yes, it is possible to be a devout Catholic and a member of AA as well. In my opinion, people who describe themselves as "recovering Catholics" over and over again may need to address that institutional resentment. In any case, it stopped being funny a long time ago.)

The "doorknob" god

Like it or not, this Higher Power must possess some attributes of personality if the Steps are going to have any meaning whatsoever. I once sponsored a man who insisted that his Higher Power was a tree. I told him that this was no problem for now, but when he got to the point where he had to begin doing the will of his Higher Power, it was going to be rough going unless that tree had a will. Saying that your Higher Power is a doorknob may elicit a few ego-feeding chuckles at a meeting, but it actually reflects an unwillingness to improve one's conscious contact.

A "loving God"

The term is used in the Traditions but the concept is present in the Third Step as well when we turn our lives over to the care and protection of a Higher Power. How much does that doorknob care about you? How does that tree protect you from that first drink? Love is an attribute of personhood.

The group as a Higher Power

This concept appears explicitly later, but now is a good time to  point out that an AA group (apart from any one member) is a useful and acceptable concept of a Higher Power, one that in many ways should never be abandoned. The groups has personality; the group has a will; the group is loving and protecting; the group has a consciousness of a Power greater than itself. Long before any of us effect a conscious contact with God, the group fills that need perfectly.

God "as I don't understand Him"

Really? No one should claim to understand God in any complete sense. So what good does it do to emphasize the partial nature of our concept? Yes, it is good and humbling to remind ourselves and those around us that our comprehension will never be complete. But we do the new person a great disservice by obscuring the fact that our understanding must increase. Unless, of course, you discard Step Eleven.

I hope the preceding wasn't just an exercise in my resentments. I feel a real urgency to get this part of the program right as it relates to carrying the message to the new person. We can fail them and in so doing condemn them to an alcoholic death. When the sufferer reaches out for rescue, I want the hand that he encounters to be the genuine hand of the AA program, not my distorted version.

 

What kind of God?

Fill in the blanks

We looked upon this world of warring individuals, warring theological systems, and inexplicable calamity, with deep skepticism. We looked askance at many individuals who claimed to be godly. How could a Supreme Being have anything to do with it all? And who could comprehend a Supreme Being anyhow? Yet, in other moments, we found ourselves thinking, when enchanted by a starlit night, "Who, then, made all this?" There was a feeling of awe and wonder, but it was fleeting and soon lost. Alcoholics Anonymous, p.46

Sorry to get so "Carl Sagan" on you last time but I had just been outside looking at the stars. I had intended to discuss the first part of this passage but I had been looking at the stars and just felt like making some feeble attempt to convey my own personal awe and wonder.

So what about the first part? This is the old "How could a loving God (fill in the blank). The answer to that is that God has no intention of filling in any blanks. We're not the ones making the rules. In fact, were not sure what the rules are, or even if there are rules. There is such a thing as mystery and in my opinion people of good spiritual development ponder the mysteries, they don't try to solve them.

The fact is that we came into the spiritual life looking for a fight. We already had our minds made up and all that had to be done was find enough evidence to support our resentment. And so the God idea was neatly tucked away. If we are going to make any progress in reaching agnostics there has to be a willingness to meet them on their terms, on their own turf. Having been one of these dreary antagonists I think I am somewhat qualified to take on the task.

It helps to break the argument down into its sub-arguments.

Argument one: people do bad things.

This one's a paper tiger. People do bad things because (here it comes) people are not as good as we expect them to be. The problem is not God, it's our assumption that God has it in His power to suspend free will and for some malevolent reason He isn't doing it. The argument is actually turned on its head. People have the power to do evil, God has it within His power to stop them, He doesn't, ergo He does not exist. The fundamental flaw in this argument is in not realizing that our free will is part of the way God created us. If He didn't intend for us to have free will we wouldn't have gotten it in the first place. And if was right in the first place, why would He change it?

This is truly a mystery, but there is a least one way to approach it. If love is not freely given is it actually love? Can a creature devoid of free will love God in any meaningful way? I believe with all my heart that God loves me so much that he given me the power to reject Him. And if I have the power to reject Him, then and only then do I have the power to love Him. This is what the story of the Garden tells us.

Argument two: God allows terrible things to happen to innocent people. Natural disasters, disease, anything not the result of human evil.

I read a story the other day where a man gave God the credit for saving him when he fell over a waterfall. That's nice. But do we ever hear from the people whom God doesn't save? No, because they aren't around to tell us about it. I would be very cautious about giving God credit for things going my way.

The case is often made that God permits suffering in our lives because He wants us to mature spiritually. All well and good, but try telling that to a parent whose child is suffering through no fault of his own. What insane spiritual maturity is He trying to achieve? It's true that we can use the hardships in our live to grow closer to Him, but it seems like there ought to be a better way. Again, a mystery.

I don't claim to have an easy answer to this. But I was once approached by a member of AA who threw that argument in my face. At first I was at a loss for words (it happens). Then I said something that I will always remember. I said," Assuming that suffering is a given, would you rather suffer through life without God or with Him?" I don't understand why there is suffering, but I'm not willing to go it alone. If it's raining, why do you curse the umbrella you refuse to use?

Argument three: people with one belief system disagree with people who have an opposite one. They can't both be right therefore they are both wrong.

I agree. They're both wrong. Or to put it another way, claims of absolute truth are not faith, they are hubris. I have no truck with "true believers." Scott Peck (rest his two-faced souls) had a pretty good analysis of this. Stage one is the skeptic, the non-believer. We already know him. Sage two is the true believer. Faith covers his doubt. He has seen the light and nothing will shake his conviction. Or at least he won't let anyone shake it. Stage three is the person who has outgrown this certainty is is undergoing a crisis of faith. His doubt covers his faith which was covering his skepticism. They are usually assaulted by stage three people who see them as going backward (they're not of course). They may give up the whole thing in disgust and return to stage one. But there are those who one day realize that doubt is part of faith. They develop a faith that encompasses the doubt that covers shallow faith that covers skepticism. Got that? If you think about it, the people we most admire spiritually are those who are able to remain humble in the face of their unknowing.

I took me a long time to say what Bill said more succinctly. The take-away from all this is that we must never forget that we are variously at all these stages at any given time. That's why it's called "We Agnostics" not "You Agnostics."

Starry night

We looked upon this world of warring individuals, warring theological systems, and inexplicable calamity, with deep skepticism. We looked askance at many individuals who claimed to be godly. How could a Supreme Being have anything to do with it all? And who could comprehend a Supreme Being anyhow? Yet, in other moments, we found ourselves thinking, when enchanted by a starlit night, "Who, then, made all this?" There was a feeling of awe and wonder, but it was fleeting and soon lost. Alcoholics Anonymous, p.46

I got pretty upset when I heard someone say that the Sun would burn itself out in five million years. Then I realized they had said "five billion." What a relief. - Wanda W.

[First, let me apologize for waiting so long to post. Sometimes other things vie for my attention and I just started some online training in graphic design that has become quite an obsession. All or nothing, as Bill used to put it. Anyway, on with the post.]

This is the time of year when the Milky Way is bright in the evening sky. I'm fortunate enough to live in an area with low humidity and clear skies, so I can go out and look up at that amazing haze of light and force myself to realize that I am looking at the light from literally billions of stars.

I walk outside just in time to see light that left a star the day Jesus Christ gave His Sermon on the mount. My eye intercepts other light that began its journey when Michigan was still under three thousand feet of glacial ice.  And I see light from countless other stars that began speeding toward an empty spot in space where this planet would not yet emerge for millions of years, light from stars that themselves ceased to exists millions of years ago.

Of course no light arrives to mark my birth. Nothing I can see is that close.

In spite of all this, the moment I turn away, all I can think of is myself.

"I Don't Know" is on the Third Step

Many times we talk to a new man and watch his hope rise as we discuss his alcoholic problems and explain our fellowship. But his face falls when we speak of spiritual matters, especially when we mention God, for we have re-opened a subject which our man thought he had neatly evaded or entirely ignored. - Alcoholics Anonymous, p. 45

Abbott: Strange as it may seem, they give ball players nowadays very peculiar names.
Costello: Funny names?
Abbott: Nicknames, nicknames. Now, on the St. Louis team we have Who's on first, What's on second, I Don't Know is on third--
Costello: That's what I want to find out. I want you to tell me the names of the fellows on the St. Louis team.
Abbott: I'm telling you. Who's on first, What's on second, I Don't Know is on third--

This isn't in the Big Book. But as I was thinking about the term "agnostic" I realized that it is a term with a variety of meanings. I won't bore you with all the nuances but you can Google it.

In the sense that Bill is using it in this chapter, I think he is referring more to people who evade or ignore the subject. This is not real agnosticism. Rather, it is a habit of mind that refuses to ponder the ultimate questions. On page 53, Bill calls that kind of thinking "soft and mushy."

We tend to think that true believers and virulent atheists are at opposite ends of the spectrum. But in reality they are both people who have passionate feelings about the issue of God. It is not so much like a line as it is like a clock. Atheists are 11:59 and believers are 12:01. That's why conversion experiences seem so unlikely. But in reality it's a small step over the line. So it was with me and with many others of my acquaintance.

Bill's "agnostics" prefer to live down around 6:00. And these people, it turns out, are the toughest to reach. It takes something quite profound to rouse them from their stupor. Again, on page 53, Bill refers to a self-imposed crisis we could neither postpone nor evade. Here's where the latex encounters the macadam. We evaded the ultimate question until there were no questions left. And on that important page 53 the question is posed.

Not so "Obviously"

Lack of power, that was our dilemma. We had to find a power by which we could live, and it had to be a Power greater than ourselves. Obviously. But where and how were we to find this Power? - Alcoholics Anonymous, p.45

It would be impossible to participate in AA without using a number of common phrases like "character defects," "turning it over." " personal inventory," and of course "Higher Power." But sometimes we use them without really giving much thought tot he words themselves. What I want to do here is dissect this phrase "Power greater than ourselves." It's not so "obvious."

Just before Charlotte and I got married, I moved in to her house. The weekend I chose to do it was the blackout of  2003. At first I didn't think that a power outage would stop me from moving, but it became clear after a little while that electrical power was essential for a lot of things I took for granted. For instance, when I got to my apartment in Farmington Hills, I went to use the bathroom only to discover that there was no water pressure. The city used electrical pumps to maintain the water flow. We had made one trip and decided to get some gas which, of course, was not available because the gas pumps ran on electricity. Then the basement started flooding. We had an electric sump pump and it never occurred to us that our dry basement was the product of a few watts of power every few minutes. I ran a long extension cord from the basement to my car and used precious gas to run an inverter in the car. I'm sure you can remember that weekend and I'm also sure you remember how grateful you felt when things got back to "normal." But normalcy, it turns out, is a very delicate thing. That can be a very unnerving revelation.


In AA we get quite accustomed to seeing each other sober.That becomes our new "normal." But in fact, sober is the least normal thing an alcoholic can be. We ought to be greeting each other with slack-jawed astonishment. "You're still sober??" Yet how many times have we heard people talk about their early days and describe how they were more impressed with someone with a couple of months of sobriety than they were with someone who had been sober twenty years. In the former case, the power was more obvious. You could dismiss someone with many years because they probably "weren't like you." But that person who was just ahead of you? That person must have found some kind of way to do what still seemed impossible.

Power is not like talent. It's not ability or skill. These things all seem innate. Power seems to come from outside ourselves. Power is a resource we must locate and "tap into." In Cristian theology, the ability to do God's will is a gift of the Holy Spirit. So when Bill talks about a "Power" with a capital "P" he's revealing the essentially Christian roots of AA. However, that does not mean that you have to be a Christian to find that power.

The whole purpose of this chapter (and by extension the whole book) is to enable the sufferer to find that Power. I won't give away the ending here but I will tell you that it involves an attitude.

Who got sober, the chicken or the pig?

If a mere code of morals or a better philosophy of life were sufficient to overcome alcoholism, many of us would have recovered long ago. But we found that such codes and philosophies did not save us, no matter how much we tried. We could wish to be moral, we could wish to be philosophically comforted, in fact, we could will these things with all our might, but the needed power wasn't there. Our human resources, as marshalled by the will, were not sufficient; they failed utterly. - Alcoholics Anonymous, pp. 44-45

There is a tendency on the part of the general public to confuse AA with so-called "self-help" programs. Many of us have tried these approaches and, however benevolent they might have been in other respects, they were completely useless in addressing our alcoholism. Most of them are based on the assumption that there exists in all of us some core of goodness that we merely need to uncover to achieve a lifetime of happiness. The fact that whole sections of bookstores are devoted to these programs hints that such programs may not all deliver as promised. Instead, I would prefer to call AA a "self-helpless" program. Here's why.

After Bill had his spiritual experience in Town's Hospital, he struggled to understand what had happened to him. Ebby brought him a a book, William James' Varieties of Religious Experience. I would urge you to read page 124 of Pass It On to get a fuller understanding of how crucial this was to Bill's later thinking. Varieties is a difficult book to master and when I read it I found it tough going. But the most important thing that I took away was the difference between the "once born" and "twice born" human natures. There is a good explanation of this at http://www.pursuit-of-happiness.org/history-of-happiness/william-james/. I am not endorsing this site, but the explanation of this concept is as good as any I've seen. Here is a description of the "twice born" personality.

There are persons whose existence is little more than a series of zigzags, as now one tendency and now another gets the upper hand. Their spirit wars with their flesh, they wish for incompatibles, wayward impulses interrupt their most deliberate plans, and their lives are one long drama of repentance and of effort to repair misdemeanors and mistakes. - Varieties of Religious Experience, p.169

It should be no mystery as to which of these types Bill identified with. "Once born" people are the ones who write the self-help books. Ironically, they are the ones who need them least while their intended audience is the least likely to benefit from them. Instead, I would suggest that you read The Spirituality of Imperfection by Ernest Kurtz. A highly enjoyable read with profound insights. One of my favorites.

I love the line "Our human resources, as marshalled by the will, were not sufficient; they failed utterly." This is key. There are some problems for which any partial solution is no better than no solution. "Half measures availed us nothing." Half measures did not get us half a recovery. Even ninety-nine percent still got us nowhere. The analogy I like to use is to imagine you are trying to get from the roof of one building to the roof of another. Twenty five feet separate the two and all you have is a twenty four and a half foot ladder.  I assure you, you will not get 98% across. You will fail utterly.

I will close with a little AA gem told to me by one of my first sponsors. He said "this program is like ham and eggs: the chicken is involved but the pig is committed." Chickens don't get sober.

Alcoholic death or spiritual life? Let me get back to you on that.

In the preceding chapters you have learned something of alcoholism. We hope we have made clear the distinction between the alcoholic and the nonalcoholic. If, when you honestly want to, you find you cannot quit entirely, or if when drinking, you have little control over the amount you take, you are probably alcoholic. If that be the case, you may be suffering from an illness which only a spiritual experience will conquer.

To one who feels he is an atheist or agnostic such an experience seems impossible, but to continue as he is means disaster, especially if he is an alcoholic of the hopeless variety. To be doomed to an alcoholic death or to live on a spiritual basis are not always easy alternatives to face. - Alcoholics Anonymous - p.44

 A conversion experience is not for me: I'm an obstinate Vermonter. Besides, I can't buy it. People say to me, 'Have faith.' And I believe I'd have faith if I could have it but I can't. - Bill W. in his Guest House talk.

I made a casual decision around the age thirteen that would have profound effects on my life. In the soaring arrogance that only an adolescent can muster, I determined that there was no God. This was a decision of convenience because the life of self-centeredness I was planning for myself didn't really allow for any authority outside of myself, God being chief among them. In this I was profoundly unoriginal. Imagine that, a rebellious teenager!

Now as Bill will point out later, that decision was really an act of faith. I was gambling that life was best lived in the basis of "self determination" to put a nicer spin on it. Of course I didn't see it that way and I carefully insulated myself from anyone who might put a rational wedge in my smug self-assurance.

As life became more and more unlivable I began to find myself surrounded by people whose lives were attractive. These were people who seemed to have the ability to live life on its own terms, to be generous and humble, and most of all to know joy. I would have gladly given up all my misery to be like them except for one insurmountable issue: they all believed in God and lived Christian lives. I wanted faith, but had become so entrenched in my irrational atheism that it seemed beyond me. It was as if someone were trying to convince me that life would take on new meaning if I could just bring myself to believe in the Tooth Fairy.

One Sunday morning I was by myself at work in the basement of a phone company building. I was there on Sunday because I had to make up the work I hadn't done the day before while I was detoxing. I had an appointment at the bank Monday morning to get a loan to cover the balloon payment on our little dump in Roseville and I thought it would be bad form to show up drunk at 9:00 am. So I went cold turkey on Friday knowing that it would be a couple of days before I would stop shaking. I also had another little problem: I had written a bunch of checks that I had to cover on Monday as well, and my car, such as it was, was not dependable enough to take me to Puritan and Greenfield where the Credit Union was. This was not a neighborhood where you wanted to break down.

So there I was, swimming in self-loathing and maudlin self-pity and all I could think about was the people who had God in their lives and how much I yearned for that simple peace. It was then that a very remarkable thing happened. For a brief moment I became ever so slightly open minded about this God stuff and wondered if I might have gotten it just a wee bit wrong. I suddenly realized that I had been living my entire life based on a decision made by a thirteen-year-old brat. I was thirty three at that time and the results of my atheism experiment were in: not working out too good.

What I did next was as simple as it was profound: I made a decision, not one whit more rational than the one I made at thirteen, that I would begin living on the assumption that God existed even if there were no concrete evidence of it. At that moment, I was instantly freed from the cares and anxiety that had been dominating me and I felt that I was surrounded by infinite love, and that everything was going to be okay. Needless to say, when I read Bill's account of his experience in Towns Hospital I was flabbergasted at just how much it paralleled mine.

I went home and got my brother's bible and flipped to a random page. (This is not a very practical way to study Scripture.) It opened to the parable of the prodigal son. If I had any doubts about the validity of my experience that pretty much quashed it. I must assure you that this is not typical of the spiritual life but it does seem to happen to us more often in those first "pink cloud" days.

The twenty years of my life lived on the assumption of God's non-existence were followed by twenty more based on the opposite assumption. I needn't tell you that the latter was indescribably better. I won't say that this proves the existence of God but it does prove one thing: that faith in God is beneficial in the extreme. Whether or not God exists I may never know. But I know no other way to live.

Let's Step on it

Once more: The alcoholic at certain times has no effective mental defense against the first drink. Except in a few rare cases, neither he nor any other human being can provide such a defense. His defense must come from a Higher Power. - Alcoholics Anonymous, p. 43

 

I could spend a lot more time inching through the remainder of this chapter, but I have pretty much exhausted what I have to say about the First Step by now. And this is exactly where we are. The concluding paragraph sums it up pretty well. As we work through each step, I want to recap what we just covered, where we're going and, surprisingly, what happens in the "cracks" between the Steps.

Okay, where are we going? Bill leads into the next chapter with the final two words of this one: "Higher Power." The next chapter is one addressed entirely to the nature of the "spiritual awakening (experience)" necessary for recovery and to the concept of a Higher Power.

But before we get there, it would be a good idea to look at the "crack."  You may ask, "What the hell are you talking about?" Go ahead.

Here's what I am talking about. The division of the program into discrete steps was a necessity when the book was being written to make clear the common elements of each man's recovery. (Sorry Marty Mann, you weren't around yet.) But none of the early members had this step-by-step experience, and if you really think about it, neither do we today. I think that as we work the steps there is a continuum of experience with milestones along the way. We never really jump from one step to the next.

What is the crack like between Steps One and Two? I have to believe it is different for everyone, but I'll use my own case as an example. You may be able to apply it to yours.

My crack could be described in one word: hopelessness. I knew about AA but I resisted it for two seemingly contradictory reasons. First, I was afraid it wouldn't work. AA was the last house on the block and if that failed me, then what hope did I have? On the other hand, I was afraid that it would work, and that I would end up living without alcohol the rest of my life, a life I could not comprehend. I describe this as being in Death's waiting room. I couldn't die and I couldn't live. I knew full well that I was a hopeless alcoholic but I had no sense that any other life would be better. Think about that: even if someone dangled happy useful sobriety in front of me I had no appetite for it.  I could not move toward happiness even if I wanted to.

This is the state into which Bill and the others tried to steer the "pigeon." This was the condition that Rowland H. was in when Carl Jung pronounced him hopeless. "Is there nothing else?"  he cried. But keep in mind that this is a passage, a moment when the sufferer turns from darkness to light. It's kind of like rolling out of bed. Hardly instantaneous in my case. So we pass from Step One to Step Two, keeping in mind that this is not a Kodak moment, frozen in time. It is more like the moment when we awake from a dream.

The Pitfalls of Blogging

How's that working out for ya?

Our behavior is as absurd and incomprehensible with respect to the first drink as that of an individual with a passion, say, for jay-walking. He gets a thrill out of skipping in front of fast-moving vehicles. He enjoys himself for a few years in spite of friendly warnings. Up to this point you would label him as a foolish chap having queer ideas of fun. Luck then deserts him and he is slightly injured several times in succession. You would expect him, if he were normal, to cut it out. Presently he is hit again and this time has a fractured skull. Within a week after leaving the hospital a fast-moving trolley car breaks his arm. He tells you he has decided to stop jay-walking for good, but in a few weeks he breaks both legs. 

On through the years this conduct continues, accompanied by his continual promises to be careful or to keep off the streets altogether. Finally, he can no longer work, his wife gets a divorce and he is held up to ridicule. He tries every known means to get the jay-walking idea out of his head. He shuts himself up in an asylum, hoping to mend his ways. But the day he comes out he races in front of a fire engine, which breaks his back. Such a man would be crazy, wouldn't he? 

You may think our illustration is too ridiculous. But is it? We, who have been through the wringer, have to admit if we substituted alcoholism for jay-walking, the illustration would fit us exactly. However intelligent we may have been in other respects, where alcohol has been involved, we have been strangely insane. It's strong language - but isn't it true? - Alcoholics Anonymous, pp. 37-38

Pardon the long citation. I considered truncating it, but it's such an meaningful example for most of us that it does bear retelling.

Why does the jay-walker engage in such absurd and incomprehensible behavior? Alcoholics are hardly unique in exhibiting this sort of self-destructive behavior. The key to untying this knot is to ask one simple question: "What's the payoff?" People do not self-destruct for the pure joy if it. I believe they are tying to meet a fundamental need in a way that offers relief without addressing what is lacking in their lives. I'm sure you can think of numerous examples. Those who know me well need look no further.

So what is it that the alcoholic is missing? What emptiness are we trying to fill? Here's an excerpt from Carl Jung's letter to Bill W.:

I am strongly convinced that the evil principle prevailing in this world leads the unrecognized spiritual need into perdition, if it is not counteracted either by real religious insight or by the protective wall of human community...  You see, "alcohol" in Latin is "spiritus" and you use the same word for the highest religious experience as well as for the most depraving poison. The helpful formula therefore is: spiritus contra spiritum.

Jung refers to an "unrecognized spiritual need." That's quite in keeping with what we have been discussing so far regarding the spiritual nature of the problem. Notice as well that he sees the solution in a "real religious insight" (a spiritual awakening?) or "a protective wall of human community" (a fellowship?). 

In "A Vision for You" Bill draws the parallel between what alcohol means for most normal drinkers and what the fellowship offers in its stead. "Yes, there is a substitute and it is vastly more than that. It is a fellowship in Alcoholics Anonymous." AA fills the unrecognized spiritual need by providing the human community that genuinely satisfies the need as opposed to the counterfeit provided by alcohol.

“You have made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless, until they can find rest in you.” 

So said St. Augustine. I could not say it better.

Yes, I am

I am going to take the lazy way out and quote a section of "Pass It On" in which Bill describes in detail the insanity of the first drink from his own experience. It is very apropos this section of the Big Book and is one of my favorite stories

Bill was to have one last great battle with booze. It would be a running, bruising battle. It started on Armistice Day.

"The fright was getting hazier. I didn’t have to exert myself so much to resist. I began to talk to people about alcoholism, and when offered drinks, I would give the information to them as a defense and also as a justification for my former condition. Confidence was growing.

“Armistice Day, 1934, rolled around. Lois had to go to the Brooklyn department store where she worked. Wall Street was closed down, and I began to wonder what I would do. I thought of golf. I hadn’t played in a long time. The family purse was slender, so I suggested to Lois that I might go over to Staten Island, where there was a public course. She couldn’t quite conceal her apprehension, but managed to say cheerfully, 'please do. That would be wonderful.’ I soon crossed on the ferry and found myself seated on the bus beside a man with a flying target rifle. That brought back memories of that Remington single-shot piece my grandfather had given me when I was 11 years old. We started talking about shooting.

“Suddenly, a bus behind us collided with the one we were in. There wasn’t any great shock, neither too much damage. My friend and I alighted on the pavement to wait for the next one to come along. Still talking about shooting irons, we noticed something that looked like a speakeasy. He said to me, ‘What about a little nip?'

“I said to him, 'Fine, let’s go.' We walked into the place. He ordered a Scotch. With ease, I ordered ginger ale. 

‘Don’t you drink?' he said.

“ I said. 'I’m one of those people who can’t manage it.’ And then, I dwelt on the allergy and the obsession, among other things. I told him all about the terrible time I’d had with liquor and how I was through with it forever. Very carefully, I explained the whole illness to him.

“Soon, seated in another bus, we were presently deposited in front of a country inn quite well down the island. l was to go to the golf course nearby; he was to take another bus to the rifle range. But it was noontime, so he said, ‘Let’s go in and have a sandwich. Besides, I’d like to have a drink.’ We sat at the bar this time. As I have said, it was Armistice Day. The place was filling up, and so were the customers. That familiar buzz which rises from drinking crowds filled the room. My friend and I continued our talk, still on the subject of shooting. Sandwiches and ginger ale for me, sandwiches and another drink for him.

‘We were almost ready to leave when my mind turned back again to Armistice Day in France -- all the ecstasy of those hours. I remembered how we’d all gone to town. I no longer heard what my friend was saying. Suddenly, the bartender, a big, florid Irishman, came abreast of us beaming. In each hand he held a drink. ‘Have one on the house, boys,’ he cried. ‘It’s Armistice Day.' Without an instant’s hesitation, I picked up the liquor and drank it.

‘My friend looked at me aghast. ‘My God, is it possible that you could take a drink after what you just told me? You must be crazy.’

"And my only reply could be this: 'Yes, I am.'

"Pass It On," pp. 109-111

Copyright © 1984 by Alcoholics Anonymous World Services, Inc.

Some additional (unnecessary) thoughts

In one of my last posts, I made reference to the decision to drink as a spiritual decision. This was an idea that came to me as I was writing about Jim. It was not a belief I had ever harbored until that time. It just seemed to make sense.

As I sat at coffee on Saturday and discussed this, the expression on the faces of some of my friends indicated anything but complete agreement with this idea.

I am not one to form my beliefs outside of the context of the fellowship. In fact, if I have anything meaningful to say it is because my knees have been under hundreds of AA tables over the years, not because I have been granted some unique revelation. There are a few that claim this for themselves and for the most part they are the cheerfully ignored. Heaven help me if that ever becomes my M.O. So I was forced to reconsider my position. If you can allow me to get over-analytical I would like to offer some of my additional thoughts on the matter.

 The term "spiritual" has very positive connotations, both in AA as well as in the larger culture. To speak of such an insane decision as being spiritual in nature is therefore very jarring to the ears. How do I put this in words that are more in harmony with the general tenor of the Big Book?

When Bill says that we "... may be suffering from an illness which only a spiritual experience will conquer," I think there is a strong implication that we do not so much "lack" a spirit as we possess a diseased spirit. This leads to the question as to whether our spirit is entirely dormant. The term "spiritual awakening" does seem to imply that our spirit is present but not functioning. (I think I may have heard mine snoring a couple of times.) But the term can also imply a moment of enlightenment. Frankly, I don't think Bill gave it anywhere this much thought. But I will.

An analogy might be useful. I own a print shop, and the world of color is sometimes my personal hell. Trying to get color right is a delicate balancing act between CMY and K (cyan, magenta, yellow and black). If one of these is missing, the resulting color is skewed away from the missing color. For example, an image deficient in yellow will appear purplish. Now, the thought life of someone whose spirit is diseased will result in thinking that is skewed heavily toward the mental and physical, in other words toward "an allergy of the body" and an "obsession of the mind." If we turn that around, you can say that alcoholism is the "color" of someone with a diseased spirit.

Therefore (finally) I can say that the insanity of alcoholism can only be understood as a fundamentally spiritual condition. The decision to drink is a fundamentally spiritual one. If that makes any sense, God bless ya.   

Comments anyone? Anyone?

I'm still in the process of writing some new posts, but something occurred to me that I want to share.

None of my opinions or observations of the Big Book were made in isolation from the Fellowship. If I am going to accurately re-create the dynamic of the Happy Hour Group I absolutely must have feedback. Otherwise, I'm just tootin' in the wind.

I know many of you have had trouble figuring out how to post comments, so here's the easy steps you need to follow.

1. Get a Google account. They are free and you don't have to give any personal information other than your age. In their never-ending conquest of the world, they acquired Blogspot so it's a Google site, like it or not.

2. When you get to the blog, sign in at the upper right hand corner using your shiny new Google account username and password.

3. Click on a post to read and comment. When you first sign in you are taken to a screen with recent posts but you are not able to comment until you click on one title.

If you are still having problems, email me at sclarkaz@gmail.com.

Talk with you all soon.

Steve

Self Knowledge

Thus started one more journey to the asylum for Jim. Here was the threat of commitment, the loss of family and position, to say nothing of that intense mental and physical suffering which drinking always caused him. He had much knowledge about himself as an alcoholic. Yet all reasons for not drinking were easily pushed aside in favor of the foolish idea that he could take whiskey if only he mixed it with milk!

Whatever the precise definition of the word may be, we call this plain insanity. How can such a lack of proportion, of the ability to think straight, be called anything else? - Alcoholics Anonymous pp. 36-37

Why exactly does self-knowledge fail to protect us? I think the answer lies in understanding what type of thinking leads us back to the bottle. To call it insanity is merely descriptive. This is how the world perceives us. We behave in a totally insane, irrational way. "Yet all reasons for not drinking.." And that is were the problem lies. Picking up a drink is not irrational from the perspective of the alcoholic. I believe it is arational. This may not be a familiar term, so here is a definition:

arational
 
Not within the domain of what can be understood or analyzed by reason; not rational, outside the competence of the rules of reason.

I find this to be an effective way of untangling the "strange mental twists" that characterize this kind of thinking. We have "reasons" for not drinking, but the decision is made outside the domain of reason. We can't think our way out of the first drink because the impulse in not coming from the rational part of our minds. From a psychological perspective, it could be seen as emanating from the subconscious mind. But if that were so, then psychotherapy would be an effective cure for alcoholism. Clearly it is not.

So what part of our brain is conscious but arational?  I think the idea that we are simultaneously body, mind and spirit implies that it is not the mind of the alcoholic that gets him into trouble, it is his spirit. Consider this passage in page 64 (emphasis mine):

[W]e have been not only mentally (mind) and physically (body) ill, we have been spiritually sick. When the spiritual malady is overcome, we straighten out mentally and physically.

Notice the priority. Mental and physical health is dependent on our spiritual health: sick spirit, sick body and mind. We have a daily reprieve contingent on our spiritual condition. So if the decision to pick up the drink is a spiritual one, then self-knowledge, a rational state of mind, cannot help us. We need a new spiritual state. And that is what AA is all about.

Things go better with milk.

Our first example is a friend we shall call Jim. This man has a charming wife and family. He inherited a lucrative automobile agency. He had a commendable World War record. He is a good salesman. Everybody likes him. He is an intelligent man, normal so far as we can see, except for a nervous disposition. He did no drinking until he was thirty-five. In a few years he became so violent when intoxicated that he had to be committed. On leaving the asylum he came into contact with us.

We told him what we knew of alcoholism and the answer we had found. He made a beginning. His family was re-assembled, and he began to work as a salesman for the business he had lost through drinking. All went well for a time, but he failed to enlarge his spiritual life. To his consternation, he found himself drunk half a dozen times in rapid succession. On each of these occasions we worked with him, reviewing carefully what had happened. He agreed he was a real alcoholic and in a serious condition. He knew he faced another trip to the asylum if he kept on. Moreover, he would lose his family for whom he had a deep affection. - Alcoholics Anonymous p.35

We're introduced to "Jim," an intelligent and apparently normal man who became a raging drunk almost overnight. There's a parallel here between Jim and the "man of thirty." I would be tempted to say that Jim may have sensed something unusual about his reaction to alcohol and made a decision to avoid it.That might account for his "nervous disposition." Maybe he's white-knuckling his sobriety.  But, like the man of thirty, he reached a point where "he had it made." He inherited a successful business and has a wife and family, he is well liked and respected. If I were in that situation, I might think that a little drink now and then couldn't hurt. You would have to be crazy to jeopardize all that, so if drinking even began to be a problem you could go back to your sober ways. That was my thinking early on. I told myself that I would stop if it ever became a "problem." But as I said before, the definition of "problem" kept changing such that it was always a little worse than where I happened to be at the time.

So Jim comes in contact with AA, right? No, because "AA" didn't exist. He came into contact with a bunch of recovering drunks who were trying to use the Oxford Group principles as a means of staying sober. He's introduced to the principles of that program, and he's been shown the hopelessness of his condition. He made a beginning and things got quickly back to where they were before, maybe too quickly. After all, here was a guy who had good fortune dropped in his lap and was probably not too accustomed to failure.

Now it gets interesting. "All went well for a time, but he failed to enlarge his spiritual life." This is an extremely important statement. It wasn't his failure to "maintain" his spiritual life, it was his failure to "enlarge" it that got him into trouble. This is a key characteristic of the spiritual life. It must constantly grow if it is to survive. We'll see this most clearly in Step Eleven.

So now Jim is finding it difficult to return to his previously happy sober state, much like the man of thirty. This is a pitfall that traps many of us. We assume that we can step out of the quicksand as easily as we stepped into it. He is frustrated and continues to seek the help of his new friends who seem to have found a way out. Why is it not working for him? He has so much to lose; he has great motivation. You could even say that he had "plenty of character."

We'll see why as he recounts his story.

"I came to work on Tuesday morning."

I wonder if he came to work on Monday.

"I remember I felt irritated that I had to be a salesman for a concern I once owned."

He felt resentful that he had to work for a business he once owned. 

"I had a few words with the boss, but nothing serious."

He has an argument with his boss, maybe one of his former employees who used to report to him. His resentment is coming out as anger against the people around him. Then he minimizes it.

"Then I decided to drive into the country and see one of my prospects for a car."

There goes Jim, throwing a tantrum and storming off. No attempt to see where he had been at fault. No desire to make things right by making amends. They say he "made a beginning" but you have to wonder just how willing he was to apply the principles in his own life.

"On the way I felt hungry so I stopped at a roadside place where they have a bar. I had no intention of drinking. I just thought I would get a sandwich. I also had the notion that I might find a customer for a car at this place, which was familiar for I had been going to it for years."

Whoa, let's back up for a minute. The roadside place just happened to have a bar. He had no intention of drinking. He was just going to have a sandwich. It was familiar because HE HAD BEEN GOING THERE WHEN HE WAS DRINKING! He had a notion that he might find a customer. Now I'm willing to bet that there were places around there without a bar where he could still get a sandwich. And I'll also bet that he might find a customer there as well. But that wasn't the notion he got. If you're a dry alcoholic and not enlarging your spiritual life, you shouldn't be getting "notions."

" I had eaten there many times during the months I was sober. I sat down at a table and ordered a sandwich and a glass of milk. Still no thought of drinking. I ordered another sandwich and decided to have another glass of milk."

If he had been going there for years and also during the months he had been sober, then it means he had also been going there when he wasn't sober. He sat at a table, not at the bar. He ordered a sandwich and a glass of milk. Then another sandwich and another glass of milk. Jim is really behaving himself even if he is pigging out a bit.

"Suddenly the thought crossed my mind..."

Okay, now we're getting somewhere. The problem of the alcoholic centers in his mind rather than in his body. Jim's mind is not a normal mind, but he insists on using it anyway. It feels normal to him. I say this a lot, but it is so very, very true: Every stupid thing I have ever done in my life started with the words "I thought."  

"...that if I were to put an ounce of whiskey in my milk it couldn't hurt me on a full stomach. "

What harm could a little ounce of whiskey do? And there's no better defense against alcoholic thinking than milk.


" I ordered a whiskey and poured it into the milk. I vaguely sensed I was not being any too smart, but felt reassured as I was taking the whiskey on a full stomach."

He had a "vague sense" that he was behaving insanely, but that magic milk was going to protect him from his alcoholic thinking. And he reassured himself. Didn't ask for a second opinion. Took a vote in his head and the majority said that the full stomach was going to protect him.

"The experiment went so well that I ordered another whiskey and poured it into more milk. That didn't seem to bother me so I tried another."

Control and enjoy. Control and enjoy. One ounce of whiskey didn't hurt, so maybe two would feel better. Two? No problem. So maybe three. In other words, let's keep drinking until the experiment stops going so well. But by this point, there's no more experiment for we are back on old familiar ground now. 

The crux of the problem.

How then shall we help our readers determine, to their own satisfaction, whether they are one of us? The experiment of quitting for a period of time will be helpful, but we think we can render an even greater service to alcoholic sufferers and perhaps to the medical fraternity. So we shall describe some of the mental states that precede a relapse into drinking, for obviously this is the crux of the problem.

What sort of thinking dominates an alcoholic who repeats time after time the desperate experiment of the first drink? Friends who have reasoned with him after a spree which has brought him to the point of divorce or bankruptcy are mystified when he walks directly into a saloon. Why does he? Of what is he thinking? - Alcoholics Anonymous, pp. 34-35

Before we launch into Jim's story, it would be advantageous to study these introductory paragraphs.

Up to this point we have been describing the hopeless nature of the alcoholic malady. Bill has taken great pains to hammer this point home. But now the book begins to paint a clearer picture of alcoholic insanity utilizing a couple of actual cases along with a humorous analogy.

 By the time we reach the end of "More About Alcoholism" pretty much everything related to Step One has been said. If the reader finds himself or herself in agreement at this point, then Step One has been taken.

Plenty of Character

For those who are unable to drink moderately the question is how to stop altogether. We are assuming, of course, that the reader desires to stop. Whether such a person can quit upon a nonspiritual basis depends upon the extent to which he has already lost the power to choose whether he will drink or not. Many of us felt that we had plenty of character. There was a tremendous urge to cease forever. Yet we found it impossible. This is the baffling feature of alcoholism as we know it - this utter inability to leave it alone, no matter how great the necessity or the wish. - Alcoholics Anonymous, p. 34

There is much in this paragraph that has already been stated several tines in a variety of different ways, so I would find it difficult to say anything original.

However, it is here that I first notice the word "character." Because this word will become a very important part of our discussions of the Steps, I think it would be a good idea to clarify what Bill means by it. Here's a dictionary definition:

 

character   

1. the aggregate of features and traits that form the individual nature of some person or thing.
2. one such feature or trait; characteristic.
3. moral or ethical quality: a man of fine, honorable character.
4. qualities of honesty, courage, or the like; integrity: It takes character to face up to a bully.
5. reputation: a stain on one's character.

I believe Bill was using the word in sense four. Therefore, what he is saying is that we were men and women who possessed honesty and courage. We had reached a point where we had an honest desire to stop drinking and we had the courage to take action, but we failed time and time again.We began to doubt ourselves and, if you were like me, came to a point where we were baffled by this seeming inconsistency. We tried again and again to do what we knew to be right yet we found it impossible. For many of us the struggle became so untenable that we simply gave up. "I'm an alcoholic. I drink. That's what alcoholics do."

Bill questions whether good character and will power are sufficient to recover from alcoholism, at least on a "non-spiritual" basis. In examining the Steps we will return again and again to this direct linkage between a spiritual recovery and the restoration of character. It's quite meaningless to speak of "defects of character" when you can't even define character. It's hard to take a "moral inventory" when you have a fuzzy idea of what the word "moral" means in that context.

As a footnote, this is where the Oxford groups' "Moral Re-armament" influence begins to move to the forefront of the AA program. It's impossible to divorce AA from it's Oxford Group roots, but it is equally absurd to claim that AA somehow inherited the indefensible excesses of that movement. There is at least one web site that tries to discredit the program by just these means. As I see it, the drunks that were attending Oxford Group meetings had little interest in the political and social ends of the groups and, when they split off (or were kicked out, depending on your point of view), borrowed what was valuable and effective in recovery and left the rest. 

Here's a portion of Bill's Guest House talk that shows just what parts of it they did, in fact, borrow:

So Roland aligned himself with the Oxford groups of that time, a rather evangelical movement, rather aggressive (very easy it is to criticize). It was nondenominational, however, and it used simple common denominators of religions, simple moral principles. It called upon its members to admit that they could not solve the life problem on their own. It called upon them for self-examination. It called upon them for restitution. It called upon them for a kind of giving in the Franciscan manner, the kind of giving that demands no return in money, power, prestige and the like, the losing of one's self in the lives of others. Such was the nature of the crowd with which he became associated. Unaccountably, to him, the obsession to drink left. And for some years he had no more trouble. At the time in the groups there were a few alcoholics sober. There is one now at Ann Arbor that goes back to that time, an old friend who never became an AA. Sobered up in the Oxford Groups.

Notice that there is no mention of the political goals of Moral Re-armament. That's a very telling omission.

In my next post, we will begin to read "Jim's" story. I'm looking forward to that.

A man of thirty

Though there is no way of proving it, we believe that early in our drinking careers most of us could have stopped drinking. But the difficulty is that few alcoholics have enough desire to stop while there is yet time. We have heard of a few instances where people, who showed definite signs of alcoholism, were able to stop for a long period because of an overpowering desire to do so. Here is one. - Alcoholics Anonymous, p.32

I was once a man of thirty. I can't conceive of any scenario that would have resulted in "an overpowering desire" to stop drinking. But for the sake of this discussion, let's assume there was. The story that follows is the "man of thirty." He is called "an exceptional man" because he was able to stay bone dry for twenty-five years. That's pretty exceptional.

Then he fell victim to a belief which practically every alcoholic has - that his long period of sobriety and self-discipline had qualified him to drink as other men.

I think the choice of the word "qualified" is curious. I know many normal drinkers, and as far as I know they never had to "qualify."  Notice the word is not "enabled" but "qualified." It's that same thinking we discussed earlier, that staying dry "entitles" us to something, and that something is usually a drink.

And so it was when the man of thirty became a retired man of fifty-five. "Out came his carpet slippers and a bottle." Where had they been all that time? Did he have them stored somewhere? I get the mental image of a very dusty old pair of slippers sitting next to a really well aged bottle of scotch. No, I don't think they were physically stored anywhere. They were stored in his mind, his alcoholic mind, which is a fitting place to store bottles (and maybe slippers).

He made it two months before he was hospitalized. He then tried to regain his abstinence and found he could not. Why? There were simply no more compelling reasons to abstain. His successful and happy business career had been achieved. The only overpowering desire he had left was to drink..

This story contains a powerful lesson which was the whole point of telling it. "Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic." Or as my dear friend Lucy S. says (and I quote for the second time), "once you are a pickle you can never be a cucumber again."

Which again raises the tedious question, is alcoholism innate, or is it the result of heavy drinking, or some combination of each? The story seems to imply that the man of thirty sensed that there was something quite abnormal about his early drinking, much as I sensed it from the very beginning. And even after a long period of sobriety he lapsed immediately into alcoholic drinking. Immediately. So the implication is that even before the onset of heavy drinking we alcoholics already have an abnormal reaction to alcohol.

There is an experience from my life that tends to support this idea. E.M. Jellinek was  the originator of the term "disease concept of alcoholism." You may already have read how irritated I get when I hear people going on about "their disease," but the concept is an important one (notwithstanding it's misuse). At the time I went into treatment in 1981, it was widely used (not so much now). During my intake, I filled out a questionnaire in which I was to give the approximate date that I first noticed certain symptoms such as high tolerance, increased sensitivity, loss of memory, morning shakes, etc. They were presented randomly so I would not be influenced by their order. When I was finished they took out a version of the Jellinek chart then in use and wrote the dates of onset next to the symptoms. I tracked very close to the order on the chart. I came away from that experience with a very clear sense that I was a "proto-alcoholic" (my term) long before I started regular drinking.

Yet there are other people who will report just as sincerely that their drinking was quite normal most of their lives until they crossed an unseen line and plummeted off the cliff into alcoholic drinking.

I guess the answer to the question is "it's some combination of each, or one or the other." In other words, it doesn't answer the question, but it really doesn't matter. Alcoholics Anonymous works for people who are convinced that they have a permanent condition of mind and body that will never be "cured" in the conventional sense. Whether this is scientifically demonstrable matters not. If I had to postpone my recovery until  this debate became settled once and for all, I would have died quite some time ago. Maybe you would have too.

All of this is followed by a warning to "young people." And I would emphasize this to them: there are certain symptoms of alcoholism (such as initially high tolerance) that are present early on and are good predictors of later problems. So heed the story of the "man of thirty" and listen to our stories as well, especially the parts about our early drinking. If you are an alcoholic like me, we can save you ten or twenty years of misery. You can start wearing your slippers now.

Comin' Home

I confess to having been a bit lax in posting of late, but my new tablet went belly-up and was in the shop for several days. Also, my sister was visiting from New York so that also took tim away from this little soapbox.

I'm happy to say that I will be at Rochester meetings on May 2-4 and the evening of the 5th. I have a consultation at the WSU medical school that Monday and will get a little face time with old friends in the bargain. Let me know if you want to get together.

Why do I look forward to coming back to Rochester so much? I suppose it's the almost universal feeling we have that wherever we got sober "they do it right." I know many people who swear they couldn't have gotten sober where meetings break up into several noisy tables and don't close separately and make even more noise when they do finish, which can take an hour and a half some times. Come to think of it, how did I get sober under those circumstances?

The fact is, we get sober when we need to, not where we need to. When it finally does click, we get imprinted with that flavor of the fellowship, and think it's the only way. Sort of like baby ducks.

More importantly, for many of us its the first taste of a loving and caring God experienced through the love and care of our fellow AAs. It's the end of a homesickness we didn't even know we had, and there's no place like home.

I'll pick up the blog in another day or so, but for now I look forward to seeing all of you soon.

We do not like to pronounce any individual as alcoholic, but you can quickly diagnose yourself. Step over to the nearest barroom and try some controlled drinking. Try to drink and stop abruptly. Try it more than once. It will not take long for you to decide, if you are honest with yourself about it. It may be worth a bad case of jitters if you get a full knowledge of your condition. - Alcoholics Anonymous, pp. 31-32

The least effective way to persuade a person that he is alcoholic is to diagnose him as one. Besides, that is a job for the family. Look at what great results that got them.

Unfortunately, the self-diagnosis suggested here depends on a very shaky assumption, namely that an alcoholic is capable of being honest with himself. I don't often take issue with the Big Book, but it seems to me that by the time someone gets to our doors they have already tried this experiment in some form or another for years. It seems pointless to ask them to repeat it. As for suggesting that someone "[s]tep over to the nearest barroom," nowadays it is more likely that they will drive over, and worse, drive away.  I'm not sure I would like that on my conscience.

The important thing to take away from this paragraph is that ultimately an alcoholic's drinking experience is the most effective diagnostic tool there is. And the best way to draw attention to that is by sharing our own experience. As the new prospect listens to us diagnose ourselves he becomes increasingly able to do the same.

The litany of the methods

Here are some of the methods we have tried: Drinking beer only, limiting the number of drinks, never drinking alone, never drinking in the morning, drinking only at home, never having it in the house, never drinking during business hours, drinking only at parties, switching from scotch to brandy, drinking only natural wines, agreeing to resign if ever drunk on the job, taking a trip, not taking a trip, swearing off forever (with and without a solemn oath), taking more physical exercise, reading inspirational books, going to health farms and sanitariums, accepting voluntary commitment to asylums - we could increase the list ad infinitum. - Alcoholics Anonymous, p.31

Glad they just said they "could" increase the list ad infinitum and didn't actually do it. They wouldn't have finished writing page 31 yet.  But I think we all chuckle when we read this because it really shows how sadly comical our methods were.


I could comment on this ad infinitum, but I'll just let the paragraph speak for itself.

Onward.

Fridays in Ferndale

Despite all we can say, many who are real alcoholics are not going to believe they are in that class. By every form of self-deception and experimentation, they will try to prove themselves exceptions to the rule, therefore nonalcoholic. If anyone who is showing inability to control his drinking can do the right- about-face and drink like a gentleman, our hats are off to him. Heaven knows, we have tried hard enough and long enough to drink like other people! - Alcoholics Anonymous, p. 31

Back in the 80s I worked the phones Friday nights at the Ferndale office.  Even though I was giving up one of my favorite meetings to do it, I was more than compensated by the great times we had. My old friend Willene G. was my partner, but we always had a lot of folks dropping by to sit and talk program. It was there that I met "Indian" Tom and Arnie and many more whose names escape my aged brain.

We didn't get many calls from desperate alcoholics. It was mostly people who needed rides to meetings or were new to the area and wanted to find a meeting. The people who called for help most often were family members of alcoholics. I got to be pretty good at sharing the Alanon program and probably helped more people than I hurt.

One night we got a call from a man who wanted us to tell him whether he was an alcoholic. He proceeded to explain in minute detail all the reasons he was not an alcoholic. He did not to believe he was "in that class."  I listened to him go on and on, all the time thinking that I could be sitting at a meeting where people at least knew who they were. He finally finished and asked my opinion. Bad idea. I said to him "There are thousands of people in the Detroit area with phone books, and AA is on the first page of every one of them. Not one of them felt a need to call me and ask if they were alcoholic. Except you. What do you think?"

When we were drinking, we did not want to believe we were in that class. But everyone who loved us knew we were, and often said we were, and it drove a wedge between us. We knew there was a fellowship of alcoholics, but we wanted no part of them. And then we wondered why we felt so alone.

Hey, what happened to my legs?

We are like men who have lost their legs; they never grow new ones. Neither does there appear to be any kind of treatment which will make alcoholics of our kind like other men. We have tried every imaginable remedy. In some instances there has been brief recovery, followed always by a still worse relapse. Physicians who are familiar with alcoholism agree there is no such thing as making a normal drinker out of an alcoholic. Science may one day accomplish this, but it hasn't done so yet. - Alcoholics Anonymous, pp. 30-31

As my friend Lucy S. has observed, "Once you become a pickle, you can never be a cucumber again." There's an implication in the first sentence of this paragraph that alcoholism is, in some sense, a condition acquired by drinking. It refers to men "who have lost" their legs, not men who never had them in the first place. In my own experience, there was a line I crossed unnoticed where drinking stopped being something I could choose to do or not (although I rarely chose "not"), and became instead something that possessed me, body and mind. I had "lost" something.

The word "treatment" opens up another area of contention. Nowadays the word "treatment" is essentially shorthand for in-patient rehab. But when Bill wrote this, there was still the notion that alcoholics could be cured in order to return to temperate drinking.  If I were offered such a "cure," I would only be interested in it if it allowed me to control and enjoy my drinking, and we're back to square one.

 (A brief digression. Why is it that so many other alcoholism and addiction treatments often go to great pains to disparage AA? Since we have no opinion on outside issues, if in fact such things work for some people, then "our hats are off" to them. We readily admit to having no monopoly. So why are we such a threat?)

As to whether or not "science" has found a treatment to make me like other men, I refer you to the Princeton study documented here. It includes details of the Rand study as well as the Schick-Shadel aversion therapy. (Or as I prefer to call it, "A Clockwork Orange." Just kidding. Or am I?) As I was reading this, I felt a certain sadness. Here are the cold, hard facts of science objectively reviewing "every imaginable remedy," entirely divorced from the love and warmth of AA. Maybe there is a "cure." If so, I really don't care.