Through the Red Door Blog

Since July, my wife and I have been residents of a full-blown medical assisted living facility. Like similar operations, various programs and events are published monthly by management and include such regulars as bingo, Bible study, assembling 2000-piece jigsaw puzzles and socializers featuring of course a selection of fine alcohol as the top attraction. For August’s calendar, I noted the above simultaneous sessions of AA and booze. But which to attend? Maybe I could attend both and pick the one with the brightest picture of life. I thought it would be interesting for those in the Pub Group to occasionally listen to conversations of the Friends of Bill, then the following week, vice-versa.

Isn’t there is a synergism between the Pub and Friends? Could one really exist without the other? Some of us have done that very thing. We spent a lot of time in the pub but ultimately found friends of Bill’s. Does life tell me the two are co-dependent?

In “Three Hots and a Cot”*, I wrote about the threats of recidivism by recovering alcoholics, this “going back out” in spite of earnest time working the Program. The reality is that our ego, dressed as Demon Rum, is always trying to pull us back. My first reaction was perhaps the assisted living facility might be facilitating this fallback activity. But no, I think, perhaps, I am not certain about this, but maybe the facility is just using this simulcast of Chapel or Pub as a reminder that this Chapel or Pub choice is before us every day that we’re alcoholics, for in a sense, we must recover each day, a commitment to work the Program in some way each day.

Maybe some say, “Do I ever drop this burden of our addiction?” No, but we receive merely by asking for the armor of our Higher Power to provide the grace of Bill’s and Dr. Bob’s discovery of a way to blunt our ego, despite this co-existence.

Remember, as humans we are bound to our egos. That force is always there -- always telling us we don’t have an alcohol problem, that we have licked it so we can take it easy. All to haul us back to those “good old” days of three hots and a cot.

Bill stood in that foyer of the hotel in Akron and heard the happy crowd down the hall finding companionship and release. He had a choice and found his Higher Power with its always-present Grace, the beauty of the Program.  

So, for me, which is it - Chapel or Pub? A happy crowd? No thanks, been there done that. I’ll take the honesty of the high road of the Chapel and treat “recidivism” for me merely as another fancy 50 fifty cent word, my ego once again run amuck.

Jim A, Traditions, Lebanon, OH

* See meditation, “Three Hots and a Cot,” Red Door, August 17, supra.

Usually, we read about “recidivism” in connection with a frequent repetition of criminal conduct. We probably ask ourselves, “Don’t they learn …if they steal, they will go to jail. What don’t they understand! Do they really prefer jail with its “three hots and a cot?”

Isn’t this just like a recovering alcoholic. “falling off that sobriety wagon ridden for months, maybe years?” Or a newbie working the program for a couple days or months but “going back out?” Those harmed say, “Can’t that alcoholic learn? He’s back at his normal intoxicated self. Does he remember when he drinks, he drinks too much? Does the alcoholic really prefer the sadness and harm to himself and others once again caused by his inebriation?”

Early on, I was working the Program. But, in hindsight, I was only “going through the motions.” So, surprise, surprise, I went back out. When I did, I carried with me the knowledge that I was an alcoholic and that sooner or later I would have to return to surrender once again.

Sometimes, when we have “gone out again” we seem to act as if there will be a sense of relief ahead when we surrender once again. Do we look forward to once again giving up -- a truly strange reality? Then why did we go back out? Is it like hitting your thumb with a hammer because it feels so good when you stop the hitting? We’ve probably surrendered before, but it didn’t take. Why this time? I believe that the final emergence of joy at the point of surrender reflects the triumph of reality over ego. If I drink, I will get drunk, period. No ambiguity or guesswork … drunk, period.

But my ego is always with me. It hides maybe for a bit, but it always sneaks back. And the beauty of the Program is it provides a defensive mechanism when we remember to keep coming back, for it works if I work it. Surrender isn’t a one shot-pony, it’s a process. It’s a life-long struggle, easy sometimes, hard others. We attend meetings to strengthen that defensive wall. Meetings give us tools to fight off that resurgent ego.

But, yes, recidivism … it will always be a threat to the sobriety of recovering alcoholics. We can never relax. We must work the Steps of the Program ‘til the end.

Jim A, Traditions, Lebanon

In the letter of James, we read: “Come near to God and He will come near to you.” (James 4:8).

In the early days of the Fellowship, the reading for the meetings, before the Big Book was composed, the groups used the Letter of James and, at one time, Bill W wanted the group called, “The James Boys,” until it was clarified there already was a notorious group by the same name.

Bill came from an atheistic background and, with the help of Ebby, discovered he could believe in a God “as I understand him.” I don’t believe Bill ever explained how he understood God.

As Bill continued to grow spiritually it makes sense why he turned to the Letter of James. Somewhere in my life I came across the following statement: “[James] is a book written for readers whose faith in God is threatened by a daily struggle with hardship. This ‘testing of faith’ is provoked by a variety of external and historical circumstances or ‘trials.’ Yet more importantly, every test occasions a theological crisis, when the believer is more easily deceived or confused about who God is and how God acts.”        

James understood the difficulties of life and especially the difficulties experienced when we begin to question the existence of, or the nature of God. James’ letter is practical; it deals with the reality of the difficulties of life and the need of perseverance. For James, the person who perseveres at the time of testing is the one who does not let themselves be overcome by negative desires and chooses life. This could be a reference to the Book of Deuteronomy where God said “Today I set before you, life and death, blessings and curses, Choose Life so that you and your descendants may live.” For James this meant making good choices to live rather than be spiritually dead.

Then, as now, there are those in life who are wealthy and those who struggle to makes ends meet. This is true not only society in ancient times, but also at the time of the creation of the fellowship and it continues to this day. For James, the humble rich are those who, regardless of their socioeconomic status, believes their gifts and talents are gifts from God. Those who acknowledge that all they have comes from God and nothing they have could buy the happiness they have or want. Another similarity between the wealthy and the poor is that – no matter how much they have – it will pass away. Put it another way; financial resources or the lack of them are irrelevant to one’s standing with God or Higher Power. One of my joys in the fellowship is the folks I have come to know on a first name basis, and I know nothing about what they do away from the fellowship.

Another human issue is that of favoritism. For James, favoritism is breaking the law “Love your neighbor as yourself.” As James puts it: “If you show favoritism, you sin and are convicted by the law as lawbreakers. For whoever keeps the whole law and yet stumbles at just one point is guilty of breaking all of it.” And then

 as now, favoring those who seemed to be more intelligent or wealthy is destructive to a healthy community. All members of the community/fellowship should be welcomed equally, without regard for their socioeconomic status or religious, or lack of it, background.

“Seamus, take the cotton out of your ears and put it in your mouth. You have two ears to listen twice as much as you talk.” I’ve wondered if the individual who said that to me was aware he was, in a sense, quoting James who said: “Be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to anger.” I was too quick to talk, slow to listen, and became angry when confronted about one or other character defect often related to not listening. James also cautioned that although the tongue is a small part of the human body, it is the part that steers the course of the whole of one’s life. But life has not changed; People continue to lie, break promises, spread gossip, break confidences. Sometimes we use words for self-promotion by belittling others. For James, what a person says is an expression of who that person is.

Also, for James, God is the source of all wisdom. Perhaps it is this awareness that rounds off the Steps where we “pray only of knowledge of your will and the power to carry it out.”

The Big Book is still my “go to book” but I also keep in mind that that which formed much of what Bill W wrote and said came from a letter written some two-thousand years ago and it is still valid to this day.

Séamus D. is a semi-retired Episcopal priest in New Orleans.

The Program as a Tool for Life. I sell myself short if I look only at the Program for its process of dealing with our addiction. It’s a marvelous set of ideas to get us through some days not directly involving our addiction that aren’t exactly what we wished. I can see myself sometimes slipping into a case of the “Poor-Me’s.” Life’s bumps seem to get the better of me. Downcast, angry, all the bad stuff we know and are ashamed we might once again slip back to the old ways. I need to grab myself and start a gratitude list —what a lucky soul am I, I have a way out of my dilemma through access to my Higher Power.

Friendships. Sure, we have old time friends from childhood, school, and work and merely traveling through 84 years of life. These folks may know us better than ourselves. Sometimes we acted with these acquaintances as they wished us to act, or at least as I thought they wished me to act. But often I hid—hid behind a false personality of the “happy go-lucky guy,” when on the inside I was empty, living without a spiritual base as one example. But the Program saved me. My Higher Power’s Grace reached across that gap with the help of all those new people I met at all those evening gatherings in church basements.

E-ze Duz it and Over-Reaction. A habit I dislike and wrestle with all the time. Something unexpected happens and disrupts what I see and the normal course of things. It’s the next 60 seconds when I over-react and it upsets me and those working with me. It disrupts my mental processes of how to solve the unexpected happening and it’s that weak impression I leave with spouse and children. It’s juvenile. It sends a message that I really am a 13-year-old dressed in clothing of an 84-year-old. It delays any thinking or action dealing with the problem. It may even destroy the ability or patience of others who give me a look of “I don’t need this nonsense” and walk away letting me stew in my own juices. Oh, for those first few minutes of quiet, maybe time enough for a humorous quick, “Well now. Whata’ we goina’ do?” Often, we know what went wrong and recall having fixed the same problem yesterday. It’s usually not the end of the world. Oh, for that 60 seconds. It may relate to our ever-present ego, “How dare that package break.” A loud “3XX0*&^ss2” often follows. “And that Thanksgiving jam spilled all over me!” That 60 seconds clouds everything, slows finding a solution quickly, and forces us to shamedly try to rehabilitate ourselves. People say, “Forget it,” etc. But we know the truth. As we couldn’t control our drinking, so we can’t, apparently, control personal habits like this 60 second issue. I must return to my Higher Power to find salvation.

Gratitude. In some ways, Gratitude is the glue that holds us all together at times of stress and self-pity. It draws us away for ourselves and pushes us to think of others—those in trouble with the law, a raving disease with no likelihood of a cure, a loss of a child. There is so much pain and suffering around us. How can we ignore it? So, we might make a list during a time of stress for us. But, isn’t the question, “What does this list ask of me?” Sure, a contribution helps. Maybe that gift would be better served by giving it to the person suffering and at risk. Offer to visit those confined to bed. Maybe check for possible errands you might run for the family. There are so many ways to respond to your gratitude list. And keep at it for sometimes the person suffering resists assistance … keep at it … maybe just show up someday (“I was in the neighborhood; thought I’d drop in for a second”).

In summary, all of this reminds me of the importance of “getting outside myself,” of thinking of others and being grateful for a Program that gives us a way to work through the ups and downs of life without escaping to drink to blank it from our minds. Instead, it gives us a way to take advantage of life’s bumps and carry a message of hope, kindness and the message of the Grace of our Higher Power who is always with all of us … always.

Jim A, 4:00, Wednesday, Lebanon OH

In the New Testament story of Martha and Mary, Martha tells Jesus to tell Mary to get up and help her. Jesus tells Martha: “You are too distracted, only one thing is important, and Mary has chosen the better part.”

When I came into the fellowship of A.A. I was distracted. I didn’t want to be there as I didn’t believe I was an alcoholic – even after I completed thirty-five days in a thirty-day program. But that wasn’t what distracted me. It was my Ego. I had this belief that I would be a big help to “these people” as I was a counselor and had a background in theological studies.

I was distracted. I was taken to the State Psych Hospital to tell my story. I was invited to a variety of meetings to tell my story. I was invited to be on the “speaker circuit” [fortunately, for me, two mentors made it clear to me I was not going to do that and, for once, I listened to someone.]

I was distracted. I was reading anything and everything I could get my hands on about the history of Alcoholics Anonymous, about the “not-god” spirituality of the fellowship. I believed that the more I understood the better person I would be. I memorized “How it works,” and “the Promises.” and, when someone quoted a line from page … I highlighted that line and memorized it for the next meeting.

I was distracted. I was busy doing everything that would draw attention to me even as I built a wall between me and all others. And yet, I knew there was something missing. I was not as happy as the old-timers and, at some level, I wanted what they had.

I was distracted. I was a single parent and I wanted a relationship. What I really wanted was a mother for my child instead of a life-partner. I wanted everything yesterday. I kept busy so that I did not have to think about anything in a serious manner.

I was distracted. I had to work the steps so I could get them finished before I completed the “Aftercare” program to which I was assigned. I was so busy “working” the program I was not living it. Truth be told, I had no idea what ‘living’ really meant drunk or sober.

I was distracted. I was busy trying to distract others from seeing me as I really was and I had no idea who I was. I was scared, lonely, and alone and dry as a the Mojave Desert.

“…only one thing is important, and Mary has chosen the better part.” “It makes no difference what you are doing if you’re not sober.” I heard that. I had no idea what it meant until I was blessed with a spiritual awakening which resulted in my conscious awareness that I’m an alcoholic, an addict, and sobriety is possible.

I began the steps again. First, admitting I was powerless helped me to have a more honest look at my drinking, drug use, and the negative consequences. Then I had to understand God differently from the vengeful God that haunted the recesses of my mind and kept me in guilt and shame.

Sobriety taught me to accept myself as a good person who had made mistakes just like other human beings. Sobriety taught me that I could become free of my guilt and shame as I faced my past, confronted it, made amends, began to live a clean and sober life. Sobriety taught me go to meetings to meet people, to listen twice as much as I talk, to find ways of being service to others, to the group, and be the hand of AA when it was needed.

Sobriety cleared my mind. Being sober - as opposed to being dry - I no longer had to have things my way, I could share my thoughts and feelings without any expectation of what I shared being utilized.

I no longer had to go to meetings. Going to meetings did not keep me sober. Living the program kept me sober. I go to meetings to listen, to learn, to share. “Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understood him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out. Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps we carried this message to alcoholics and to practice these principles in all our affairs.” Only one thing matters, and, for me, that is sobriety and then living the program. Thank God for Bill, Bob, Sam Shoemaker, and the early old timers.

Séamus D.
Séamus D is a semi-retired Episcopal priest in the New Orleans diocese.

So, we’re looking at two drunks—one needed to talk to a drunk, “anyone.” He didn’t care whether the person was actively drinking or was trying to fight his need to do so. The other was a physician about ready to perform a medical operation the next day, but first had to have a bottle of beer. The Doc didn’t wish to meet this guy muttering, “I’ll give ‘im 15 minutes, then I walk”. They’d never met before.

But the fact is, both stayed—long into the night—two drunks just talking about their addictions.  They shared their experiences and feelings and shame of their drinking, the damages it caused them and their families and friends. Maybe, stories of their efforts to quit came up, each sharing how those efforts failed. Maybe there were some guesses “why” their efforts failed.

But from this fumbling talk, a seemingly accidental dialogue, a program of something was born that turned out to be a way for all drunks to find sobriety regardless of where they lived—in any nation—a program that ultimately stretched sea to sea.  

They made promises to each other to “stay in touch” and they did that. They must have believed or at least suspected the strength of simply one alcoholic talking to another. They looked for the means to continue those conversations. Both were important parts of their search. Bill didn’t have a drink since that first meeting with Dr. Bob. Yes, the good doctor had one more episode, but he found a way to deal with his shame—he simply went around Akron talking with all those he had harmed with his drunkenness. It was Dr. Bob who by this effort created the heart of Steps 4 and 5 and 8 and 9. Yes, Dr. Bob saw the importance of simply making a list of those we had harmed and seeking ways to make amends.

Work proceeded for several years. AA groups were springing up all over. The Big Book was published. And the medical professionals came to believe that this program was a way to find sobriety and to maintain that sobriety.

Then suddenly, Bill and Dr. Bob stepped aside, turned the program over to others but continued to carry the message of hope to those who still suffered.

What is one to say about this. Bill and Dr. Bob didn’t get paid for their vision—and then as the Program reached maturity, they turned it over to the Program itself. I need to remember those early days of struggle and the slow progress. I need to remember the devotion of these early believers and their devotion to finding a better way. It’s akin to our Higher Power’s gift of Grace.

Yes, I must acknowledge Bill and Dr. Bob, for without their vision and hard work I am afraid I might not have made it and might have continued on my slippery slope of my own addiction until that final moment.

Jim A, Wednesday,4:00, Lebanon OH

“America! America! God mend thine every flaw,confirm thy soul in self-control, thy liberty in law.”
Katherine Lee Bates

This past Sunday, July 3^rd, we had a patriotic hymn sing-along after church to celebrate a little early the 4^th of July. One of my favorites is the music to Katherine Lee Bates’ poem, “America the Beautiful.” O beautiful for spacious skies for amber waves of grain”. Bates wrote the hymn after she arrived in a prairie wagon on top of the 14,000-foot Pike’s Peak near Colorado Springs in the summer of 1893.

I connected to the poem and the hymn when I helped plan a pediatric radiology meeting at nearby Colorado Springs in 1994. I took a six-month sabbatical from Children’s Hospital to prepare for the international pediatric radiology meeting. I had much help from people worldwide, but I had a touch of what Parker Palmer calls “functional atheism,” believing I was the “only” one who needed to get most of the work done.

After a year of planning and everything was ready, I vividly remember sitting in a board meeting in May at the event hotel just before the conference began. I looked out of the adjacent large bay window and saw, to my horror, the beginning of the last snow of winter. I had planned in detail a multitude of outdoor activities that now would never see the light of day. I now keep this beautiful picture of snow on the tulips in front of the hotel to remind me how little I can control in life.

There was a multitude of other hiccups. We recorded speakers for a meeting video. One speaker did not like his recording and required us to redo his filming at least five times. I will always be indebted to Marilyn Goske, whom I had casually asked to watch over the videoing of the speakers. She patiently stayed with the speakers and missed the whole meeting to get this done. Another hiccup was our evening entertainment after dinner. We had scheduled the Air Force Academy Cadet Choir. Then without warning, they were called to maneuvers. Our meeting planner booked a local children’s chorus. I was embarrassed that this would be amateurish and poorly performed. But, as you might expect, they were some of the most charming, talented, and poised children performers I have ever seen. They ended their concert by going to individual members of this highly-educated, sophisticated audience and holding their hands and singing directly to them. We all gave them a standing ovation through our tears, remembering that the children we serve as physicians can teach us so much about life as “American the Beautiful.”  

I also learned from this meeting that I am not in charge, and that God provides impressive people around me who will take over overwhelming situations. I especially learned after dinner that when a door unexpectantly closes, the next door that opens often is surprisingly magnificent. All of these principles are in the 12 steps, as well as our church’s scripture, tradition, and reason. I had learned all this from both directions, recovery and my church. I don’t know about you, but for me, I seem to need to relearn them almost every day. What a gift that God keeps giving us a new chance every day, one day at a time.

Joanna  https://www.joannaseibert.com/

“What do you want?” Jesus asked the mother of James and John in Matthew 22;22. It’s a question that has been asked of those coming into a 12 step program for years. “I want to stop drinking.” “I want to be able to drink normally.” ‘I want to keep my marriage.” “I don’t want to lose my kids.” “I don’t want to lose my job.”

When I came into the fellowship of Alcoholics Anonymous, forty-three years ago—one day at a time—I had no idea of what I wanted. I knew I was not an alcoholic, but I had told my boss, “I think I have a drinking problem” and so I wanted to keep my job. Later on when divorced, I wanted to keep our daughter (which was granted.)

Of course, since I had certifications in addiction, working on a Master’s degree in Family Therapy, a counselor in the field of addictions, and a background in theology and religion, what I most wanted was to be of help to those in A.A. I wanted to become the next “Chalk Talk” priest like Fr Joe Martin.

I wanted people to know just how good I was as a person. I wanted to be a sponsor—but I didn’t want to have one. I wanted people in meetings to know I had read the Big Book and so I quoted it just about every time I opened my mouth. I was invited and went on 12 Step calls, to speak at meetings in the State Psych hospital, be the moderator at a meeting, and be the speaker at a Speaker Meeting.

Oh, and when I was asked to be on the Speaker circuit, I wanted to do that—again—because my belief was that I had so much to offer. Fortunately for me and all concerned, two men, who had taken me under their wings, bluntly told me I should not do that as I had too big of an ego and I would relapse.

I wanted to get through the twelve steps as quick as possible. These were—in my mind—simple/simplistic and did not need a lot of thought and I had no character defects to speak of. I did not have to make amends as most of what I did or said was in reaction to the words and behavior of others, so what I did or said was their fault not mine.

I want... I want… I want… For as long as I can remember, I wanted something and had no clear idea what it was that I wanted. Even in my drinking I got glimpses of what I wanted to be a good person—but I could never be that. I was, for the most part, the trouble maker, the one living on the edge, the so-called life of the party, and inside I knew at some level I was disintegrating, I was dying, and some days, I felt or wished I were dead. I wanted to disappear.

Thanks to this fellowship and the simple program of honesty, I learned that what I really wanted was Serenity, peace of mind, the ability to be myself, to know myself, and to be able to communicate my thoughts and emotions without hurting another.

I did not particularly want to have to do the work necessary to become whom I was called to be. I did not want to have to face myself or others. What I needed was, and thankfully got, a person who held up a mirror to me so that I could see myself; someone who helped me get to know and to love myself and my failings, and to accept that I am not perfect.

What I needed was to attend meetings and listen more than I talked. Read the Big Book and identify with the stories as best I could. What I needed was to become honest with myself, others, and God. What I needed was a spiritual awakening and, when it came, it opened my heart and mind for me to begin to experience what we lovingly call the nine promises.

What I want today is based on the maintenance of my spiritual condition. What I want today is to be alive in every fiber of my being so that I can be compassionate, caring, responsive and responsible when the hand of AA is needed. What I want today is to admit my powerlessness over people, places and things and let God direct my life.

—Séamus D is an Episcopal priest in the Greater New Orleans area.

They say it was like the rush of a mighty wind and there were tongues of fire resting on each one of them. And they were filled with the Spirit and began to speak in other languages. And it confused the most devout.

They also say this was the start of the church. Chaos. Confusion. Bewilderment. Sounds about right.

Sometimes the rooms feel like places of chaos and confusion. Another young person has died. There is wailing and lament. Let this cup of addiction pass over me! Fiery chants from our mouths and tongues. A song of hope and healing. How long, Lord? How long to sing this song?

Surely there has been needless death not unlike our Savior on the cross. And fires and more blood and vaping and bad coffee. Lots of bad coffee. The young girls are prophesying, their tears are running through the streets. The young men see visions of a better tomorrow and freedom from cravings. The old dream dreams like many before them and carry the good news to the sick and suffering outside the doors. Because they know that 60 days and 90 days and 6 months turn into multiple years.

How long, Lord? How long?

How long until the rushing wind rests upon me? Until the wonders appear in the heavens above and the earth beneath? Until justice rolls down like waters? Until righteousness like a mighty river not the tears of the mothers? Until we learn to accept life on life’s terms?

So we lean into the God of our own understanding and we do the next right thing. We know we are a program of attraction not promotion. We know we are stronger as a body than we are by ourselves. We remain ready for God to remove our defects of character. We know we can call our sponsor and upon the name of the Lord and be saved from ourselves. And maybe even restored to sanity.

For such a time as this there may be chaos and confusion. But we also might actually see signs and wonders if we pay attention. Until our great and manifest day.

Deborah M
Lancaster PA

In the July 2022 issue of PARABOLA, James Opie shares his journey with respect to responsibility. The article ends with this statement: “For some of us, more than others, truly “repairing the past” must be an ongoing undertaking one small step after another toward becoming responsible.”

The Twelve Steps are, to me, a process in becoming responsible. We begin with the first step in which we acknowledge not only powerlessness over our addiction but also that our life had become unmanageable. In other words, we were irresponsible in word and action. Even those of us who pride ourselves for being responsible have to come to grips with our irresponsibility.

As we begin to document the downward spiral of our irresponsible life under the influence of one or another mood-altering chemical – legal or otherwise – we slowly (and, for me, it was a very slow process) of fully admitting my unmanageability/irresponsibility.

By the time I got to step five (for the third or fourth time) I became aware – in the words of James Opie, “…the past can only be repaired inside a person in the present, inside me, by confronting my own past and bringing it forward consciously, with efforts to not deflect or hid from what is recalled, but work to be present to feelings and related thoughts that appear.”

The past can only be repaired inside of me in the present. I am the one who was irresponsible. I am the one who choose to drive intoxicated. I am the one who said, “I can handle this.” “Don’t worry, I drive better when I’m loaded.” “I’m the one who said, “No one will know….” Now, I have to come to grips with this past behavior in the present, look in the mirror and say “I did that.” “I said that.”

I recall spending a weekend with some friends and attending a carnival where I had a “good time.” I woke up in their sitting room on Monday afternoon in a sleeping bag in my underwear. I got dressed, got coffee and a drink. When I was asked about statements I was supposed to have said to one or other woman with whom I was dancing, I flat our denied it. First line of defense: lie until you know differently. I was “sober” a few years when my friend told me he was too embarrassed to tell me what I had said and done at the carnival. I had no memory of it.

By the time I got into recovery I had lost contact with many of those who should have known about my irresponsibility. However, I had sufficient vague memories to feel shame and guilt about my actions. These memories however did not prevent me from wanting to blame or hold others responsible for my actions.

As Opie writes, “Resistance to seeing all retrievable details is likely, and it’s important to observe this resistance, too, and not be cowardly.” I would never use the word ‘cowardly’ with respect to myself, but that is exactly what I was – a coward. I wanted to hide, disappear, deny, blame, project. “NO, not me! I couldn’t have said that. I couldn’t have done that.” I could say these words even as my mind told me, “You are guilty as charged.” I knew what I had done and did not want to look at it.

Finally, finally, I reached a point where, as Opie writes, “In all cases, we have no choice but to begin precisely where we find ourselves, bearing in mind our inability to change anything, except in a developing interest to be present to whatever appears.”

Over the years I have met up with folks with whom I had lost contact, and after the initial pleasantries, I asked the awkward question, “In case you are not aware of it, I have been in the program of A.A. for___years. What I’d like to know from you is this; Did I ever say or do anything that embarrassed you or your family? You can tell me anything I need to hear so I can make amends and remind myself I don’t want to go back there.”

Out of these conversations I have learned some frightening – and I mean frightening – things and embarrassing stories. What I greatly appreciate today is this – no one can blindside me with my past. Thanks to this program – living and working the steps – I am open to hearing about my past as it increases my conscious awareness of past irresponsibility and reminds me to continue working on my responsibility which I can only have through the maintenance of my spiritual condition on a daily basis.

Séamus D.
Séamus D is a semi-retired Episcopal priest in the New Orleans diocese.