Made A Decision

Courage is fear that has said its prayers.

                               Fearless and Thorough

How It Works is read at our meetings and, inside that lengthy reading, we hear: 

We beg of you to be fearless and thorough from the very start. Some of us have tried to hold on to our old ideas, and the result was nil - until we let go absolutely.

Well, there’s another of those puzzling messages that baffled me in the beginning, but I (slowly) came to understand it means we must get our hands off our problems - and all our old methods of working them out - and hand them over to that greater power, the One that actually knows what to do about them. 

It took me a damned long time to learn how to do that. My first sponsor once gave me a mug with these words on it: “Everything I’ve surrendered has my claw marks all over it.” (My first sponsor knew me very well.)

We alcoholics are a stubborn lot. Even in the face of repeated failure we will continue to launch our tried and untrue attacks at situations that have never once yielded to those same old solutions.

The clearest example for us to remember is the way we held onto the idea that WE would ultimately get our drinking under control. 

WE didn’t need help with that. 

WE would eventually be able to do it. 

Only after years (even decades) of suffering were WE - now desperate for help -  finally able to recognize, and admit, we were unable to do it alone. 

Enter A.A. - where despite oldtimers begging us to be fearless and thorough from day one in our recovery, WE often continue to keep a stranglehold on the idea that WE will find the solution to whatever is troubling us.

 Oh sure, I was willing to hand over my problem with alcohol, but only when it became obvious a Higher Power had actually handled that problem for others, so I figured my HP might even be willing to do it for me.

But I wasn't any too sure my HP could or would handle all my other fears and worries. So I held onto them tightly, convinced I could figure them out on my own, despite working one step after another all designed to pry my hands off them. 

We continue to repeat what we don’t - or won’t - repair. 

“There are two things alcoholics really, really don’t like - 

 (1) the way things are and

 (2) change.” 

Changing ourselves takes effort. 

Being a victim is easy - at first - but it doesn’t wear well. 

If we want God to remove our character defects we have to stop doing them. We must at some point give up our resistance to growth. 

(Hint: Sooner rather than later works best.)

We are called to change, because only when we surrender our pride and ego can we win. It becomes a bit easier to do when we start to realize everything our Higher Power sends our way is for our soul’s benefit. 

We grow when we let go. 

When we let go of our habitual thoughts and behaviors we will finally get onto the path to  becoming who we are meant to be. 

That earlier self-help guru, Norman Vincent Peale, once wrote:  If you want things to be different, perhaps the answer is to become different yourself.

And a quote from an old Grapevine magazine reads: We neither ran nor fought. But accept it we did. And then we began to be free.

I would love to tell you I figured this all out in the blink of an eye just by applying my keen intellect, but if I’ve learned nothing else in A.A., I’ve learned to be honest. I don’t actually suffer from a keen intellect, rather a quite sluggish one. It took more than one painful, frightening and even dangerous life “lesson” to get my attention that change was even necessary. 

One lesson involved my letting go of something I didn’t want to lose. Like most alcoholics I wanted what I wanted, when I wanted it, and what I wanted was not what my Higher Power wanted for me.

 Yet I hung on and on until I actually reached the brink of suicide, that permanent solution to a temporary problem. 

It took an A.A. miracle to help me to surrender in that instance and I’ll always be grateful it arrived. But any of us stubborn alcoholics are capable of that kind of behavior when we want something, or someone, that our Higher Power knows will ultimately destroy us. 

I had been a member of A.A. for a good while before I ran headlong into the realization I wasn’t the star of my little life show; my Higher Power is the star. 

It was my Higher Power who got, and keeps, me sober. It is my Higher Power who sends me the lessons I need to become a happier and saner me.

It is our collective Higher Power who gave us the astonishingly wonderful program of Alcoholics Anonymous, our safe place to learn how to live long enough to actually become joyous, happy and free. 

The path to that life is to practice our program just the way it was written ... then to keep doing it. 

As a qualified graduate of the school of hard knocks, with a doctorate degree in stubborn thinking, I am overly-qualified to beg of you to be fearless and thorough from the very start of your recovery. 

Because living the Program of A.A. is truly “the easier softer way”.

 

Made A Decision

                   Here's a Question for You ...

      What have you done for AA -

or for a still suffering alcoholic -

today?

Have you had a thought today about others still out there caught in the hell of

our disease? 

I try to, but it's only because it was once sharply brought to my attention. 

It happened in the building I was living in.

My apartment back then, when I was much younger, was a busy place. People

in recovery dropped by regularly for coffee and A.A chats. I had sponsees there

doing step work. I held weekly studies on books that had helped me in my

own recovery. 

But one day an ambulance arrived out front. 

The paramedics were searching for a man who lived in my building, but I didn't

know him. His apartment number, however, was from "around back," so I

directed them there.

In due course the paramedics wheeled a stretcher from the back apartment to

their ambulance out front. 

On the stretcher was a living skeleton, a rack of bones covered with tight yellow

skin, topped by an enormously swollen belly. 

My neighbor. 

Dying of alcoholism.

So there I was, Little Miss A.A., living The Promises while my neighbor was

quietly drinking himself to death just a few doors away.

How about your neighbor? 

Is he or she dying of alcoholism? 

Do you know?

 

More importantly, do you care?

Because of my own apartment experience I learned to pay closer attention to the

people living near me. And I let people know I'm in recovery from our chronic

terminal illness whenever I think that information might be helpful. 

As it says in our Big Book: 

Near you, alcoholics are dying helplessly like people on a sinking ship. If you live

in a large place, there are hundreds. High and low, rich and poor, these are

future fellows of Alcoholics Anonymous. 

Among them you will make lifelong friends. You will be bound to them with new

and wonderful ties, for you will escape disaster together and you will

commence shoulder to shoulder your common journey. Then you will know what it means to give of yourself that others may survive

and rediscover life.

You will learn the full meaning of 'Love thy neighbor as thyself.' 

That's as true - maybe even more so - than when our Big Book was written.

So what can we do?

 We can invite doctors, nurses, police officers, social workers, and others to our

open meetings. We can provide those same people with A.A. brochures.

We can answer their questions. 

Our groups can hold Fourth Step workshops. 

We can also host other kinds of workshops offering information about A.A.,

where speakers share about service, our steps, our traditions, The Importance

of Meetings, A.A. literature, and so much more.

Our groups can also offer public workshops where non-alcoholics can attend

and hear a couple of A.A. speakers, an Al-Anon speaker, and then to have

a question and answer session for those in attendance.

And we, as individuals, can carry the message to that person in tonight's

news - the one now headed to jail after causing a fatal accident while drunk.  

My home group had business cards printed to hand out or leave where they

might do some good. They read: 

"If you want to drink, that's your business. If you want to quit, that's ours ...

A.A, has helped millions of people stay sober for nearly 100 years."

 (And then it gave contact information). 

I recently heard about people in A.A. who were repelled and repulsed by a wet

drunk who showed up at their meeting. Can you even imagine that?

That drunk was there to show everyone what we were like (and can be again if we pick up a drink) - so that those there

could help him become the sober person he was meant to be. 

That's Our Job!!!

My sobriety - and yours - is given us just for today and is "contingent on the

maintenance of our spiritual condition."

 That means prayer, meditation, step work, book studies, meetings and giving

our sobriety away to someone who needs it. That's how we get to keep it, people.

The seats in A.A. are never empty. Lost members are soon replaced when

God points another newcomer in our direction, a person perhaps more

willing in sobriety to do the job we've been given to do.

I was fortunate in early recovery to be taken on a lot of 12-step calls where I

often got to see late-stage alcoholism up close and personal.

I hated those calls at the time, but I'm very grateful for them now. 

It was there I learned those of us who have escaped drinking - just for today -

are uniquely qualified to pull others out of the jaws of our ugly disease.

But all of us can, and often do, coast along on our own sobriety, skipping

meetings, not calling our sponsor, not being willing to do service in our

group ... truly skating along on thin ice. 

We are not ever cured of our cunning, baffling and powerful disease.

Not paying attention to the basics of our recovery every single day is truly playing with fire.

Our lives before A.A. weren't pretty. Lives of baffled defeat never are.

Those of us given a second chance at life in A.A. are the lucky ones.

Most drunks never even get inside the door for their first meeting. 

But coasting in our recovery for too long leads many of us back to drinking.

That wake-up call sometimes does the trick and we, with new understanding,

return to fully embrace our miraculous program. 

But some of us don't make it back, because for us to drink is to die.

Every recovering addict is a miracle. Many of us should have been

dead long ago. We have been given a second chance at life and the

promises of A.A. guarantee us a good one -

as long as we continue to give our sobriety away to others.

Helping others is the foundation stone of your recovery.

A kindly act once in a while isn't enough.

You have to act the Good Samaritan every day, if need be.

Alcoholics Anonymous 4th Edition

One of my good A.A. friends, a man with 30-plus years recovery, says he

gets choked up with emotion every time he hears the "Responsibility Pledge"

read in a meeting. 

Here it is:

"I am responsible. When anyone, anywhere, reaches out for help,

I want the hand of A.A. always to be there.

And for that: I am responsible."

My friend takes that pledge seriously. 

I do, too. 

Every single sober one of us owes a debt of gratitude to A.A. that we can

never repay no matter how long we live. 

So my question remains: 

What have YOU done for A.A. - or for a still suffering alcoholic - today? 

 

 Made A Decision:   

Hope for the future creates a life of joyful expectancy. The best is yet to be!!!       

The Promises

A Donkey is a stubborn beast, sometimes refusing to move an inch forward

even under pressure.

People will sometimes use a stick on them. Others offer a carrot held just out

of reach,

because a donkey will usually take one reluctant step after another trying for

a bite.

Some say sticks and carrots, used in combination, work best. 

I wouldn't know. I've never owned a donkey.

But I do know alcoholics can be a lot like donkeys, and my Higher Power

knows I can

HeeHaw with the best. 

Tough love is a technique God doesn't hesitate to apply in my case,

often using the combination described above.

Every A.A. newcomer soon learns that "working the program" requires

commitment and discipline. Working the program means attending

meetings, daily reading some A.A. literature, and to apply what we

learn therein to our daily lives.

It's called "work" for a reason. 

That's the "stick" used by the program (and Higher Power) to keep us

sober and improve us in

the process. 

But let us not forget it says right there in the reading that the promises

will always materialize if we work for them. That’s the big "carrot"

and it’s true. 

The Promises are read at the beginning or the end of most A.A. meetings.

Listen to them next time. I know how very easy it is to tune them out

when they're read.

Especially when we've heard them read dozens, or hundreds, of times. 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," say our busy monkey minds, already planning our activities

for when the meeting is over. 

But hold on a minute. The Promises are read for a reason. If we break

them down, one by one, their message might stick with us:

If we are painstaking about this phase of our development we

will beamazed before we are halfway through.

Halfway through what? That would be the steps of recovery.

Some say the promises start to come true by the time we work the

sixth step, others say

it’s around the ninth. There are good arguments for either, although those

old- timers around in the 1990s generally called them “the 9th step promises.” 

(My friend Mark S. still does.)

 Once we roll up our sleeves and start working the steps to the best of our ability,

the promised amazement can actually begin then and there. The good news is,

as long as we continue to "work the program," the amazing life we're building will

never stop offering more opportunities for amazement. 

We are going to know a new freedom and a new happiness.

Work, family, jobs, pandemics - all are often annoying to the determined drinker.

Finding the time to drink was a challenge for me, and for many of us (even without

a pandemic), but despite the time and stress involved in laying in a daily supply,

I managed it.

 

So the freedom - and happiness - that came when I no longer had to maintain my

drinking lifestyle was new indeed, and it was huge.

 

Addictions enslave us. Recovery sets us free!

We will not regret the past nor wish to shut the door on it.

Hiding our behaviors from others - and from ourselves - was a full time job in and

of itself during our drinking years. The thought of anyone knowing about any

of those escapades appalled us.

 

It was hard for me to believe I would come to not regret the past, but that

day arrived the first time I revealed a dark secret of mine in an effort to

set another free from alcoholism.

We will comprehend the word serenity and we will know peace.

Anxiety had lived in my gut seemingly all my life, so the first time I had a serene

moment in recovery it scared the hell out of me. I felt detached from reality

- and I was - from my old reality. I felt lighter, peaceful, scared and hopeful

- all at the same time! 

Serenity took a bit of getting used to, but once I had a few more tastes of

it - addict that I am - I wanted more.

Enough to do the work necessary to have it on a regular basis.

Serenity eventually arrives for us all as the promised result of doing-the-doing

of recovery.

No matter how far down the scale we have gone, we will see how our

experience can benefit others.

People still caught in the hell of alcoholic drinking, and those A.A. newcomers just

barely into A.A.'s lifeboat, can't believe the people in A.A. could ever have

experienced what they're going through.

Newcomers especially find it hard when they enter a meeting and see well-dressed

confident people exchanging good natured banter about their years of drinking.

But once an alcoholic is exposed to those gritty stories we also hear in meetings

and in private talks with our sponsors and new A.A. friends, we feel a lot

more at home. 

 

Low-bottom experiences resonate powerfully, even with those who

"got off the elevator" at an earlier stage in their drinking. They learn

from them that they, too, can live those

kinds of horror stories if they return to drinking. 

That feeling of uselessness and self-pity will disappear.

"It's too hard."

"What's the use?"

"I wasted decades drinking, I'll never have ..." 

… a loving relationship, a decent job, a home of my own … fill in your

own blanks here.

 

As the A.A. saying goes about the dangers of self-pity:

"Poor me. Poor me. Pour me a drink." But we no longer need to pity

ourselves once we are members of A.A.. Our recovery story can - and will -

inspire others to stay sober. All we have to do is share it. We certainly

need A.A., but A.A. also needs us! 

We will lose interest in selfish things and gain interest in our fellows.

Once we've had the experience of seeing another suffering alcoholic have their

light-bulb moment - where they suddenly realize they won't have to die of our

deadly soul-destroying disease - we will get a rush unmatched by any high we’ve

ever had before.

Self-seeking will slip away.

And once we've experienced the kind of high described above we'll find ourselves

becoming far less concerned with our own wants and more and more fired up for

helping others. 

Our whole attitude and outlook upon life will change.

Doubt it? Velcro yourself to the program and stick around awhile.

Don't leave before YOUR miracles happen!

Fear of people and of economic insecurity will leave us.  

I was a single mother with four small children and no income beyond what I

could earn when I arrived in A.A. Money worries plagued me then, and for a

long, long, long time after I got sober. 

("Sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly.")

It took a newcomer with three months of sobriety to set me free. He talked about

having no job, no money, no place to live, and then said, "But I knew God hadn't

brought me into the safety of A.A. to then drop me on my head. I prayed and

surrendered it. By nightfall I had been offered a place to stay and a job that even

gave me an advance on my first paycheck." 

 With his share I heard what I needed at last and recognized my HP, too, had not

brought me this far to drop me on my head, either. I took his advice, surrendered

my money fears to my Higher Power, and from that moment to this have never

had to worry about my needs being met.

I’m typing this in 2025 when my only source of income, my Social Security check,

is under threat. So I’ve just poked around in all the dark corners of my brain

to be sure what I typed in the paragraph above is still true. To my relief, it is.

My needs are always met and in many different ways, but my Higher Power

is the source behind them all. 

God will meet our needs when we ask. Maybe not all our wants, but whatever we

really need will absolutely be provided. My own finances are like the tide.

The money sometimes goes way, way out, but then - when a genuine need arrives -

it floods back in to meet the moment. I'm good with that.

We will intuitively know how to handle situations which

used to baffle us.

Before I started asking my Higher Power to run my life, I never knew how

to handle

the most basic life situations without risking turning everything to shit. 

Nowadays a "prompt" will come to mind when a right word or gesture is needed

to fix my own situation or to help another person.

How great is that?

Driving ourselves through life is damned hard. Once we're aboard the A.A. bus

we can kick back and enjoy the scenery. 

We will suddenly realize that God is doing for us what we could not

do for ourselves.

(1) Without my Higher Power running my life I quickly return to my default

setting of restless, irritable, angry and anxious. The kind of person whose

aura alone moves people out of their way fast. 

(2) But when I finish my morning prayers and say, "Over to you, Boss"

(as Tim C. taught me) I become the kind of person people want to help. 

     I'll take option two any day, thanks.

Are these extravagant promises? We think not. They are being

fulfilled among us - sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly.

They will always materialize

if we work for them.

One day at a time, one step at a time, a sober life has brought me experiences

beyond my wildest dreams. Anyone in A.A. can have the same. After all …

It's promised!