"Working Step Nine"

I'm working Step Nine right now, making amends. This time through feels different than the last. I think part of it is I have a deeper level of honesty. I feel a greater willingness, too, to make things right with those I've harmed. Some of my amends in the past were made very grudgingly. This time, I feel a lot more honest regret about things. I'm becoming less stubborn. I'm learning more humility.

Making amends can be a long process. My list isn't obscenely long, but it ain't short neither. Some are easy; some are going to be really hard. There are several that I'm writing letters, and those are the ones I'm working on right now. I write each one, go over it with my sponsor, and follow his suggestions on making changes (if needed). I've sent three off so far, and have actually heard back on one of them.

A lot of people talk about what a freeing experience this step can be. When they make their amends, the other person responds well, and they are overcome with gratitude for God's grace. That hasn't happened for me yet. In fact the one guy I have heard back from responded almost professionally. He said he was glad to hear that I'm sober and he wished me well, but said there wasn't really anything I could do to make up for my past actions. Such is life. I found myself feeling sad about the loss of our friendship, even though it had been years ago. The experience was humbling, but at the same time, I'm glad for it.

A lot of these amends are things I hadn’t had taken care of before, and the reasons why have a lot to do with being unwilling to admit my part. Almost always, even with people who have harmed us, we had a part in what happened. Figuring out what that is can be a difficult, soul-searching process. I remember having a really hard time with it on Step Four, doing my list of resentments. But we always have our part.

I remember an old-timer talking about making amends to the step-father who had molested her. She’d had a lot of anger at him for her whole life. For a long time, the idea of making amends to him was a flat-out impossibility. In time, though, she came to realize that she had had a part in what happened, that she had egged him on, dared him to do worse. She tried to control, and made things worse for herself. In the end, she made amends to his gravestone.

When we talk about this step, we use different metaphors. We say we're cleaning house, or sweeping up our side of the street. We don’t know how the other person will react to us. They might accept our amends or tell us to go fuck ourselves. They might embrace us; they might reject us. We don’t have any control over that. Instead, we do what we can and then leave the rest up to God.

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“You’re Special”

When I was out of town a couple weekends back, I went to a meeting. I’ve been to a few meetings now as an out-of-town visitor. It’s a real comfort to sit there in a city I’ve never been in, in a meeting I’ve never been to, and know I’m surrounded by people just like me. The readings are the same. People share about many of the same issues. The newcomers have the same haunted look in their eyes. It’s a real comfort to know that, no matter where I go, there are people trying to get Recovery.

I do get to hear new things, too. The chair that day talked about when he first started working with his sponsor. He was told, “you’re special--you get to start on Step 11”. He was then to go on to Step 12, and only after that did he begin working the steps from the beginning. The chair concluded by saying that this is what he tells his sponsees now: “You’re special--you get to start with Step 11.” At first, this all sounded very strange to me. New and different can sometimes be strange. But the more I thought about it, the more I could see the wisdom of it.

They say Step 11 is the one step you don’t have to wait to start working. Throughout our Recovery, we are always trying to increase our conscious contact with our higher power. There’s nothing wrong with praying--for the health and happiness of those we love, for the strength to do the right thing, for the help we need to stay sober through just one more day. There’s nothing wrong with meditating, either. Listening for that soft, still voice that tells us God’s will for us, gives us direction, shows us the path to walk and the next right action to take is an invaluable practice for everyone at every stage of their Recovery.

Step 12 is all about helping others. We say it’s specifically about sponsorship, but helping others and being of service in general are crucial parts of the program no matter how much time you have. For a newcomer, the words of someone with only six months of clean time can be more relatable than those of someone with five years. To someone new who can’t even put together 24 hours, six months sounds possible; five years doesn’t.

Growing closer to God and helping others, these are two pillars of the program. Starting at Step 11 wasn’t how I began, but I can’t find anything wrong with the suggestion. When it comes right down to it, we should all be working Steps 11 & 12 all the time.

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“A Daily Decision”

Sponsorship is said to be one of the most rewarding parts of the program, and as I keep doing it, I discover new truth to that statement. One of the guys I’m working with is actually dealing with a lot of the same issues that I am right now. We’ve talked about how he doesn’t quite get the ‘hope thing’. I told him about the work I had just done on that very subject. We talk a lot about relationships, commiserating about feeling like we’ll never be able to have a successful one. It’s kind of neat how in sync we are sometimes. I get to let him know that he’s not alone in what he’s dealing with. I get to see that for myself. And I get to pass on what I have learned and see how it’s helpful to someone else.

Earlier, he called me up to say how he’s started making a daily decision to work at not being insane. I smiled. I told him I was proud of him and how great it was for him to get to that place. After all, it is the ultimate point of working the program of Recovery.

Being sober is only the beginning. As we accumulate time, the obsession to use falls away. At first, we make a daily decision not to put in. Sometimes, though, people aren’t quite ready to fully give themselves over to the program. Maybe they are unwilling to admit their lives are unmanageable. Maybe they’re still addicted to the chaos and insanity. Some people really struggle with this part of the disease. Maybe they’re still ruled by fear and are unwilling to let go; the only thing they’ve ever known is the insane up and down and even though they hate it, they’re unwilling to let go of it because it’s easier to stay with the devil they know.

As the obsession to use falls away, we start addressing the real issue: the disease. We start finding new ways of being in the world. We learn to think differently, to act differently. Instead of lying, we begin to be rigorously honest. Instead of being afraid, we learn to be hopeful. Instead of trying to control, we start having faith that we are guided.

Recovery is about so much more that just living clean and sober. It’s about learning a way of life that works. The rewards are beyond our wildest dreams, but we have to do the work to get them. It can be frustrating. The pace of change, the apparent lack of progress. And even in sobriety there is an easier, softer way that is tempting. We can switch our drug of choice; we can find a relationship with someone who we think will ‘save us’. We can find any number of ways to avoid doing the hard work we need to do.

If we chose to avoid those things, if instead we choose--each day--to work the program as best we can, that’s when the rewards come. We get out of it what we put into it. If we don’t work it very hard, we don’t get very much Recovery. If we stop working the program, we go back to being insane. We go back to active addiction. We start traveling back down the road that leads to jails, mental institutions, and death.

Fortunately, we are given a choice. It’s not a choice anyone else can make for us. We have to make it for ourselves each day. Do I want to be sober today? Do I want to turn away from insanity today? For me, the answer is still ‘yes’ to both. Thank God.

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"A New Sliver"

(This blog is third in a three-part series, "Searching For Hope")

Today and yesterday, I’ve been doing something different. I’ve started the days with some God time. It’s probably the first time in sobriety that I have done so. The Big Book of AA is very clear about starting the day with prayer and meditation, but for some reason this practice hasn't been a part of my program. Going to bed at night, having a chat with my higher power and reviewing the day? That is something I almost always do. When I wake up? Almost never.

Yesterday, my mind was off and running from nearly the moment I woke up. It was swirling with chores and errands to do, colored by irritation at myself with allowing so many things to pile up. I sat outside, having my morning cigarette, and asked for help. Guide me, God. Guide my thoughts. Guide my actions. It’s all unmanageable over here. Amazingly enough, I heard that inner voice: ‘Take care of yourself; do what you need to do, then go be of service.’ Wouldn’t you know it, I felt better? I had a plan, and it wasn’t mine!

It was a pretty powerful thing to receive direction like that from my higher power. There was a peace and a confidence. Yes, there was lots to do, but I knew I’d get through it. I’d do what I could. I ended up making a to-do list with over a dozen items, and managed to do almost every last one of them. When it was done, I contacted some other people in the program to see how they were doing. At the end of the day, I found myself feeling very happy. It had been a good day, and I’d felt myself be carried through it. There was even a moment when I started to get frustrated, but then I heard the inner voice in me again, urging me to press on. With it came the strength to do so.

Step Eleven: 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.

When I talked to my sponsor yesterday, I mentioned all of this to him. Then I asked him what he thought about Hope. We talked about it for a while, actually. He thinks the thing I’ve been missing when it comes to Hope is optimism.

Sometimes I might seem like an optimist, especially when lil’ Joshua pops up. He is definitely one happy-go-lucky kid. It’s one of the ways he covers up how insecure he really feels. But what I’m trying to say is that, while I don’t think of myself as a pessimist, I’m really not an optimist either. There have been too many disappointments. Too many times where my thoughts have been for what I want and I ended up with the disaster that comes from living a self-centered life.

My sponsor says a wish is for something that isn’t possible; Hope is for something that is. But we have to see that something is possible in order to hope for it. We have to believe, have faith. If we just wish for good things to happen, they probably won’t. If we’re just wishing, then we’re still thinking inside that good things aren’t possible. We aren’t being open to them.

If we believe, truly believe, that something is possible, then we have Hope. That’s the optimistic part of it. We are believing, having faith, in what is possible instead of staying stuck in what isn’t. If we have Hope, we are being open-minded.

Letting my higher power take care of me these past two days has given me a new kind of hope. I can see better now that when I turn my life over, when I allow myself to be guided, I am cared for. I asked a question, and the answer was as it has been so many times: trust in God.

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"Ruminating"

(This blog is second in a three-part series, "Searching For Hope")

I was feeling scattered, distracted tonight. On my way home, I felt moved to go to a favorite thinking spot. It's a bench with a nice view at the local University. I opened my mind, tried to let my thoughts wander to the things I'm worrying about, and listen for the guidance of my Higher Power. A lot of people talk about listening to a soft, still voice. It isn't like that for me. It's more like thoughts that pop into my mind that I didn't think. Ideas occur to me that don't come from me. I try to relax, be passive, let God move my mind, my perceptions, my senses.

I thought about some things I've been irresponsible about this week. Immediately, the words were in my mind: you'll take care of them tomorrow. I thought about my worries about how I'm handling my personal life. Again, I receive wisdom: let go. And as I type about it now, I receive the reminder that I'm not perfect. I am a work in progress. I am learning. Then I think about hope and I choose to make an admission to myself and to God:

I don't really know much about hope. I feel like Hope has let me down too many times, I don't dare to try hoping again about anything.

Do I hope that I will stay sober the rest of my life? No, I work my program one day at a time and try to trust in God to give me what I need. Do I hope that I'll have a family of my own someday, a loving wife, children? Sort of, but it's more of a wish. And again, if that's what happens, then it does. I'm really proud of this current music project, but do I hope that something will happen with it--that it will get picked up by a record label or some other circumstance which will allow me to continue doing what I love? No, I'll do the footwork there, try to be open to opportunities that present themselves, and trust in God to show me what to do next.

The more I think about hope, the less it makes sense to me. I felt so terrible for so long; I certainly know what it feels like to be hopeless. Today, I'm not hopeless anymore. But I'm also not hopeful, either.

Thinking about being hopeful seems to me like wishing, and wishing is something I try to avoid. It’s too easy for me to fall into the unreal. It’s like I don’t want to wish for something because then I’m not living in the real; I’m not accepting what is. I almost feel like wishing is a waste of my energy. Or that I’m failing at acceptance if I do it. I feel the same way about hope.

I may not be hopeless anymore, but I do seem to be without hope. It isn’t as simple as I don’t want to fall into the trap of wishful thinking; though that is something I’m very rigid with myself on. But having hope is different than having a wish. Hope is a feeling. When you have hope, you feel hopeful.

I remember being new to the program, and having hope it could work for me. I remember having hope that life would improve, and it has beyond anything I could have imagined. I haven’t gotten the high-paying job or the fancy car or anything material. What I’ve gotten instead is some inner peace, some genuine love and understanding from others, and a continually surprising, ongoing learning about myself, who I am and what I’m capable of.

This current round of stepwork I’m doing is focused specifically on relationships. It’s been a journey. I remember working the early steps, admitting how terrible I am at relationships--with women especially--and thinking and writing about how this was something I could turn over to God, too. I wrote on the question of whether I believed God could take care of me on this issue. My response? “I hope so.” Yet, it wasn't an optimistic kind of hope. More like desperate.

I see the words I’m writing here, and am a little saddened by them. Hope isn’t supposed to be depressing.

Thinking tonight on how I don’t really know how to hope, or have forgotten, or won’t let myself, or whatever the deal is there, I looked up. I asked for God’s help. I asked him to help me remember how to Hope.

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"A Hole In My Program"

(This blog is first in a three-part series, "Searching For Hope")

So I've just stepped out of a meeting. The discussion topic was Hope. My brain started to do its usual thing where I think about all the things I'll say if get called on to share, then I let go of that and opened my ears up to listen. Sure enough, I got called on and found myself at something of a loss for what to say.

I mentioned how I didn't have much hope when I first came into the rooms, and that when I found some it was just a sliver at first. I agreed with what someone else had said earlier about how their life hadn't been great even before the disease took over. Then I said that I had found hope in the rooms, that I keep finding more, and that that in itself was amazing. I thanked the chair for his service, gave back the rest of my time, and that was it. Literally.

I'm not usually someone who keeps it short, but for some reason I didn't have much to say tonight. And hey that's alright. It might even be good for me to say less for once instead of more. But this is the second time 'hope' has come up as a topic where I didn't have much to contribute. It's got me thinking. Ruminating.

It's not like I don't know anything about hope. The second track on my last CD was called 'Hope'. For that matter, the second track on this current project is called 'Hope Visions'. It's the spiritual principle behind the second step. But for whatever reason, I don't seem to have much to articulate about it in a share. And I can't help but notice that I don't seem to be saying much about it here, either.

My guess in this moment is that I know far more about the other side of the coin--fear. I used to dare to hope, but so much of my program these days is about letting go and trusting God that hope seems almost irrelevant. Maybe I'm afraid to hope because my hopes have been in vain so many times. Or maybe I've found a weak spot in my spiritual practice. Maybe the next right thing is presenting itself.

I think it's time to start spending some time thinking about hope.

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“No Time for I’m Sorry”

I’m working Step Nine right now. This step came up in a recent book study meeting and I shared about how I seem to have more people on my amends list this time around than before. When we get into recovery, we don’t automatically become perfect. We still create wreckage. Our lives change, yes, but not instantly. I’m no exception. I’m still not perfect over here.

My sponsor likes to say that the making of amends is an act of apology. When you go to those you have harmed, you admit what you have done and ask what you can do now to make things right. There isn’t time to say, “I’m sorry”. The idea, here, is kind of like ‘of course you’re sorry; that’s why you’re making amends’. Instead of saying it, instead of offering up mere words, you take action. You show that you’re sorry through the act of making amends.

How many of us have apologized over and over, said the ‘sorry’ word until it became meaningless? “I thought you had quit?!” our loved ones accused. “I’m sorry, I will, I promise!” we insisted again and again. And that’s just one small example.

A lot of men (okay, women too) have a hang-up about the ‘sorry’ word. Saying we’re sorry means admitting we were wrong, something we flat-out refuse to do. This is partially a cultural thing, but it’s especially true of those of us who are in active addiction. Even after we get clean and sober, it can still be very difficult. By working the eighth and ninth steps, we get the chance to practice the principles of Love and of Justice. We learn how to admit we were wrong. The experience can be so hard, but anyone who has been through it will tell you the rewards are worth it. It’s not a coincidence that the promises in the AA big book come after Step Nine.

I have an interesting history with the ‘sorry’ word. I wasn’t raised to never say I was sorry. I was actually raised with the exact opposite idea. Growing up, something I heard a lot was that ‘it never hurts to apologize--even when you’re right.’ That may be a good idea in theory, but the addict in me took it to the furthest extreme. Early on, I learned to always apologize for everything. I might as well have hung a ‘sorry I was born’ sign on my chest and walked through life like that.

This was the mindset that I developed. With a total lack of self-confidence, I felt I had to apologize for my very existence. If someone said something that was hurtful to me, or treated me poorly, I apologized to them. It’s pretty hard to develop a healthy self-esteem when you’re always saying you’re sorry to people who have hurt you. Eventually, as I got older and my issues with insecurity ate away at my insides, this habit morphed into a true perversion: I only apologized when I was right, and never ever--ever--when I was actually wrong. Insane.

These days, I’ve a much more balanced approach to the ‘sorry’ word. It can still be hard for me to admit when I’m wrong, and I still sometimes apologize when I don’t need to (especially when insecurity rears its ugly head), but it is so much better than it used to be. Thank God for that progress.

I like the Ninth Step. I like all the steps, really, but this one . . . it’s almost like I get to sidestep the whole saying I’m sorry issue. Making amends is an esteem-building process. I honestly admit to myself what I have done wrong. I honestly admit to the person who I’ve wronged what it is that I did. I offer to do what I can to make things right. Whether they accept my amends or not isn’t the point. If they do, I can make restitution. If they don’t, I can know that I have done all that I could and give it up to God. Either way, by making amends, I get to let go.

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