In his book RECOVERY - the sacred art, Rami Shapiro writes: “Twelve step recovery is not a self-help program, but a selfless help program. We do not change our lives, we allow them to be changed…we allow ourselves to be changed. Allowing this is perhaps all we control, and even here it is more a gift resulting from hitting rock bottom than it is any willful force coming from our ego.”

To tell some folk in recovery that AA is not a self-help program may sound like heresy. Initially, the programed seemed to be to be a self-help program. After all, I had to do the steps, I had to go to meetings; I had to call my sponsor. I had to do all the work. No one did it for me. I had to find where and when the meetings were held and find a way to them.

>After attending the same meeting for some time, I was invited to come early and help set up, stay afterward and clean the ash trays (that was a long time ago). I did, but for selfish reasons. And even as it was for selfish reasons, I was being changed. I was giving up control without realizing it. My Higher Power was working through others to bring me along until such times as I realized that it wasn’t me that was working the program as much as it was my Higher Power guiding me through others to do the next right thing.

Looking back at that time, it was as if I was being carried along in a river of recovery with cliches and acronyms as life-preservers; one day at a time; do the next right thing; let go and let god; stick with the winners, HALT; Don’t get too Hungry, Angry, Lonely or Tired; HOW: Honesty Open mindedness, and Willingness.

Bill W. wrote: “What I needed was the humility of self-forgetfulness and the kinship with another human being of my own kind.”*  I had no idea I needed that and yet that was what was happening to me. I was not doing this on my own. I was being led by example, patience, compassion, unaware of my being reformed, recreated, restored to health.

In time I got to know that some of the men and women with whom I spent an hour a day were people of influence and affluence in society and yet, when we sat in that room, we were all of one mind. All that I knew of them initially was their first name and that they wanted to get or remain sober, which was more than I wanted at the time. In that room we were all one day or one hour away from a drink. The selflessness of the people around me was inspiring and I wanted to be like these sober individuals, even if it was my selfish intention. I was one of those individuals for whom my Higher Power works overtime. I had to be  guided, sometimes pushed, into the straight and narrow road not only in doing what was the next right thing but, more importantly, for me,  having the right attitude about what was being done.

Becoming selfless was a process and, for me, a long slow process.  There are times when I look back at those early days and wish I could have ‘got it” much earlier. And yet, because I was a slow learner, hard headed (hearted), I can now appreciate the journey to sobriety. Sobriety is a gift given to me by my Higher Power. I had little to nothing to do with it beyond letting myself be picked up and carried till I was strong enough to become a wounded healer.

I did not change my life. From the example of those who lived the program and worked the steps I saw what selflessness was about. Like a selfish child who does not want a particular present but still opens it, I did not want sobriety but it was presented in such a manner that I could not help but want it, then accept it.

Four and a half years into the program I declared bankruptcy I laughed and laughed. If the government came, they could take everything but my sobriety. That was when it hit me. “I am sober.” I had hit rock bottom spiritually and was given this gift of freedom. I had nothing to do with it beyond letting myself be carried, even when I didn’t want to. I accepted it grudgingly until I realized I was a danger to myself and others. As a result of living this program and working the steps I was gifted with a new life for which I am daily and eternally grateful.

Séamus D. 
New Orleans