Mr. SponsorPants

Impulse/Compulsion/Obsession and Addiction

You go into the kitchen, and there is a plate of cookies on the counter.

When you see the cookies you want one.  That is an impulse.

Although it may require some effort and it may be uncomfortable to do so, you, on your own, can choose to quell the impulse.

_________________________

You go into the kitchen, and there is a plate of cookies on the counter.

You eat all the cookies without thinking.  That is a compulsion.

You will likely need help to deal with your compulsion, but "human aide" through either behavioral or cognitive therapy, possibly in conjunction with a medication, can eventually help you see a plate of cookies and choose whether or not to have some.

________________________________

You go into the kitchen, and there is a plate of cookies on the counter.

You eat all the cookies whether they are yours or not,  and then you drive all over town looking for bakeries and 24 hour supermarkets.  When life prevents you from continuing your cookie search you spend a good amount of time thinking about cookies, justifying and/or hiding your behavior, and planning when and how you can get more cookies.

That is an obsession of the mind, and it is a key component of addiction.

Based on the works of Dr. William D. Silkworth, Dr. Carl Jung and the alcoholic members of a Christian organization called the Oxford Group, the early members of Alcoholics Anonymous concluded that, while a certain amount of personal will (made a decision) and both cognitive and behavioral work (attending AA meetings and steps 4 through 10 of the 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous) can be of assistance in dealing with an obsession, only a spiritual experience can free an individual from such a condition

That is why just attending meetings is not enough.  Attending meetings alone cannot create a spiritual experience.

That is why just doing fellowship with other sober alcoholics is not enough.  Hanging out with other people in AA cannot create a spiritual experience, (though the feelings of camaraderie and warmth can sustain people for a while).

That is why admitting you have an obsession (addiction) alone is not enough.  Knowing what is wrong with you is not enough to create a spiritual experience (though it can help you feel better about yourself to have a label with which to identify your problem).

Working all 12 Steps is a proven recipe for creating a spiritual experience, and if done completely and without reservation, an individual can heal themselves from obsession and addiction.

At least, that's been my experience.

Questions via email: relapser, confused, hurting, tired

Dear Mr. SponsorPants,
This is my history:  I am 46 as well. In April of 2001 I made the decision I had experienced enough and was going to get sober this time. I had been in treatment before with only about 6 months being my longest period without a drink. Went to meetings everyday, no sponsor though, no program either. I was really enjoying the fellowship and my new AA Boyfriend(s) though!! 
So... fast forward to 2001, thats when I got back, got a new sponsor immediately and began working the steps.  I really felt a connection to God like I'd never had ever in my life. I was employable again, developed self-esteem, all those good things. During my 5th year I got increasingly resentful at people in my home group. Got cheated on by my AA boyfriend, lots of gossip, etc. I walked into the mtgs pissed and stayed that way, but I did not drink.  I just did not feel a real connection anymore.  There were those that suggested I try another mtg, at least for a while. I went to some different ones but felt out of place somewhere new. Eventually I only sporadically went to my old home group.  I got busier also with other things going on in my life:  I had been accepted into grad school and began making studying and classes my priority Still didn't drink still went to mainly a mtg or 2 on the weekend.  
It was a couple of months after my 6th birthday that I bought a beer, "just to see" if I could handle it. My reasoning was because I was tired of the AA guys I had dated, turning out to be players.  As one friend told me when it came to men, my "picker" was broken and I was attracted to the sickest men in the room.  I was asked out from someone I met in grad school for a drink.  I was afraid if I told him I didn't drink.well he wouldn't like me. so, I had my experimental beer, loved it and decided I could meet him and have a couple. maybe I really wasn't an alcoholic afterall!  It took a few months before I was consuming daily, alone. It turned out not to be my ticket to a more fullfilling social life again. 
I confessed at a mtg what I had done and started going to meetings again. (no sponsor) I did not feel connected. I talked to a lot of women, talked openly and honestly in the mtgs but felt empty mostly. I kept coming back for about 3 months, then thought, why bother?  So I proceeded to drink again for a few more months.  I felt I was emotionally and spiritually at the bottom and called one of the women I had began getting to know in the last few meetings i went to.  She agreed to work with me.  We began the steps immediately and met once a week.  I felt more hope but still in the back of my mind, even as we were going through the steps, even the very day i completed my 5th step, then 6,7...this voice in me said I wasnt to drink and I cannot, absolutely CANNOT imagine never drinking again! I still feel that way.  I'd gotten some bad news a friend had died and after 3 months I chose to drink again.. I haven't called her or returned to a mtg since.  This happenned right after Christmas. During the past 6 months I have drank most evenings, with only a few days of abstinence.
I plan to go back again to AA, call my old sponsor, 'fess up, etc and get into the routine again. I am afraid I will not feel connected like has been the case before.its like being a room full of people and it being the lonilest experience.  So what do I do, if, when that happens again? I want so much to have the closeness to God and people like I had in 2001.  having anytime sober (6 yrs) its so damn hard to make it back and stay.
Any thoughts?

Sincerely, Mary


Dear Mary,

I am deeply grateful to you for sharing your story with me.  The challenge in writing about alcoholism and recovery is to convey with words alone the sincerity I hope my voice and my eyes would convey to you should we ever sit down for a cup of coffee, so please, even if words like "deeply grateful" sound like something people might say by way of being "nice" or that they're "supposed to" say -- please, believe me, I am deeply grateful.

To speak about myself for a moment (my favorite topic!) the challenges of staying sober and connected to AA are sometimes more subtle today than they have been in my past, but no less slippery, I know.  Today the most dangerous voice my alcoholism uses is the "reasonable" one, and I must guard against it's "reasonable-ing" me right out of a meeting -- then two -- then all of them -- and then it's probably okay if I have just one ... whatever.  And then, for me, who, when I stopped drinking in my 20's, had a distended liver, chronic daily shakes and the beginning of audio hallucinations, it becomes the worst kind of death:  A spiritual one.  The man I am today would vanish in a sip, and any thought I have which doubts that is, I believe, the sick and self-destructive part of me (or, in a word, my alcoholism).  The countless testimony over and over and over again from alcoholics like yourself who try, as the Big Book puts it, that "desperate experiment" helps me see through the "reasonable" voice to what's really at work in me when I begin to resent a meeting, or think I'm sick of AA and I can skip it tonight.  So when I say I am deeply grateful to you for sharing your struggle, I am, because you are helping me in more ways than you know.  And I believe that, Mary, is a part of the answer for you.  But I'll get to that in a bit.

You have some wonderful things going for you, Mary, and I hope you really take this in as you read about them -- I am not making it up to help you feel better, it is all there in your email:

You have a willingness and a humility to ask for help.  Those are powerful and valuable things.  You have the memory of a time when you felt close to a Higher Power, so you know first hand when people describe that state it is a real thing, not childish hyperbole -- a genuine connection to something vast and vision-altering which you can take through each day as life hands you your lumps and gifts.  You know that, not only is it a real thing, but it is possible for you to have that connection again (though today you may be plagued by uncertainty and confusion.  The memory of that truth can bolster you if you focus on it -- don't grieve for what you think you've lost, work to find it again.  It IS there.  God didn't go anywhere that you can't find God again -- in fact, God didn't go anywhere at all.  The problem with alcoholics is that we mistake the mirror for the window.  Stop looking in the mirror and start looking out the window -- much easier to see God that way, I promise).  And not only are you willing to ask for help, you know how to do it.  You already know how to stick out your hand or pick up the phone.  Some people must not only develop willingness they must learn how to do those things, so that is another valuable tool you already have in hand.  And you are honest with yourself -- as much as anyone can be.  At least that is what your email sounds like to me.  You did not soft pedal or play the victim the parts of your history in which resentment started to cloud your connection to the fellowship and to your Higher Power.  Nor did you dodge looking at how your wish for romance (my words, I know, not yours) might be tangled up with other issues that work against staying sober.  And that self honesty is, as you know, the key ingredient in whether or not we can get, and stay, sober.  To paraphrase what you've heard perhaps hundreds of times from "How it Works," Chapter 5 in the Big Book: "... there are those too who are completely batspit crazy, but if they can be honest with themselves, they can get sober."  And you don't sound batspit crazy to me, so ... congratulations!  If the crazies can get sober by being honest with themselves, and you're not crazy, and can be honest with yourself ... my God!  You're already ahead of the game!  Go, Mary!  (If I still had my pom-poms ... ah well, you're spared the idea of a middle-aged roly-poly jumping around his living room cheering you on.  But the pom-poms in my heart?  All for you, kid.)

So you have a lot of good stuff going on there, Mary.  Please, when suffering the feelings of remorse which so often accompany trying to get sober after relapse, when the hundred different forms of "what's the use" show up -- which is just your alcoholism pressing its advantage while you feel on the ropes -- please remember that you already have a lot going for you.  If some days it feels like a mountain to climb, remember that you're not starting from the bottom of it, okay? 

Now, you asked my thoughts, and since this is serious business I'm going to be very honest with you.  But here's the thing:  I'm not saying that these thoughts all apply to you.  I'm just offering them for your consideration -- like if we went shopping, and you were back in the dressing room, and I would bring you different things to try on.  You would say, "this fits" and "this doesn't fit."  My ideas are only for your consideration of whether or not they might "fit," they are not a judgment in any way.  But since we are talking about saving your life, I will be candid.  Otherwise what's the point, right?

Let's tackle the easy one first, and address what I suspect is happening underneath it.

You write: "absolutely CANNOT imagine never drinking again." 

(You already know what I'm going to say, don't you.  And that's the "what's happening underneath" we have to get to).

You don't have to worry about never drinking again.

You just have to not drink for today. 

STOP!

Listen to what just happened in your head.

That thought, right then.  The one you had when you read that.  THAT's your alcoholism talking.  Because when people relapse, and they return, and AA offers them the tools that work, what happens in the head can be several different versions of "Yeah, yeah, I know, BUT ..."

Maybe in your head it's "Come on, that sounds nice, but you and I both know that's a game we play in 12 Step Land."  Or "Okay, okay, but that didn't work before."  Or whatever version you hear.  Mary, listen to me:  Everything in those thoughts after the word "but" is your alcoholism talking.  Focusing on the now, on today, is not a 12 Step verbal trick -- it is dealing in reality, as the only real actions you can take are in the present.  Alcoholism loves to imagine something in the future that hasn't even happened yet to justify a self destructive decision in the now.  How will you feel at the wedding reception when everyone has champagne and you don't?  What will it be like when you meet the man of your dreams and he orders a fine wine to celebrate your engagement and you order a diet soda?  Who could stand being on a cruise ship vacation and not being able to have a couple of mojitos?  Honey, right now, you're not at a reception, you're not having dinner with the man of your dreams and you ain't standin' on no Lido Deck with Gopher givin' you the eye.  You are here, now, in today -- and you can promise yourself to deal with those things when they happen, but for today, just right now, you don't pick up the first drink.  Worry about tomorrow when tomorrow comes.  Worry about "ever after" some time down the line.  Just focus on not drinking today.  Pay attention to who's at the microphone when you "hear" those thoughts, the "I-already-know-that-I've-heard-all-this-before" voice, who always offers up a "but" whenever presented with an AA tool.  Because every time you hear that voice of doubt, it's not logic, it's not you, it's your alcoholism.  (Which is you, of course, but you know what I mean.)  You have combat experience getting through 24 hours sober. One hour at a time if need be.  You can stay sober "right now."  Ignore the "but" -- ignore the cool, "smart" you -- ignore the "what if's" -- that's just alcoholism, frantically digging to undermine the foundation you're trying to rebuild.

Okay.  Next up:  Your broken picker.

Maybe it is.  Maybe it's not.  AA men are players?  Maybe.  Men are players.  Some men anyway.  And for some men it's in the wiring perhaps.  My suggestion to you is to GO SLOW in this.  Just step out of the ring for a few rounds.  Choose a length of time and sit yourself on the bench.  Try this:  "I'm not dating anyone for a year." 

STOP!

That scream in your head?  That's fear, alcoholism's best weapon.  It didn't show up dressed as fear, but that's what I think it is.

"But I'm X years old!  I can't take a year off from dating!"  Or "But what if I meet 'Him' and he gets away and I'll have missed my only chance at One True Love!"  Well ... maybe.  (Of course, it's also hard to find true love sitting at home alone drinking every night, which is where you seem to wind up, yes?)  I am personally related to someone who drank themselves to death sitting at home alone.  This is not about how much time you do or don't have.  It's not about what you think of them or what they think of you.  It is about literally saving your life.

Combat your fear of "missing out" with the willingness you've had before, and can have again, that just for today you will put your sobriety before everything else in your life, and each decision will be measured against whether or not it is good for your sobriety, not the usual measurement we all use, which is "do I want/like this or not?"  Want/like has nothing to do with saving your life.  In fact, as I'm fond of observing, willingness means that I will do what I don't want to do, that is, what I don't like, and I won't do what I want to do, that is, what I like to do.  Not in some punishing way, but in a larger strategy of making sure I place sobriety above my petty wishes and desires.   Put sobriety first for a while, and bench yourself on dating.  Stick with those Women's Meetings, that will help a lot.

Finally (take a deep breath for this one, Mary) this:  

You wrote:  "I want so much to have the closeness to God and people like I had in 2001.  having time sober (6 yrs.) its so damn hard to make it back and stay."

Yes, Mary, it can be.

And that hardness, and that distance from a God as you understand God, will be in direct proportion to how much you are a taker rather than a giver.

You know what?  I have a good heart.  I have a lot of natural empathy and compassion.
But oh, Mary, I can be such a taker.  "What am I getting out of this meeting?  Nothing!  They don't like me they don't get me and I don't even know why I keep coming."  or "Why am I hanging out with them?  They're so [fill in a harsh judgment here]."  Or... or ... or ... or the hundred different ways the "where's mine?" shows up.

Mary, you will transform your experience of AA meetings if you remember (and it's not easy to do, I fully acknowledge that) to look at the experience as an opportunity to give, not get.

Being of service, being helpful to other alcoholics, has nothing ... NOTHING NOTHING NOTHING NOTHING ... to do with time sober.  NOTHING.  You, Mary, can be helpful to the meetings you attend in the way you've been helpful to me by sending this email.  Share your fears, your doubts, your story, your hopes, your desire to reconnect.  Tell your truth.  That's the first way.

On a more pragmatic level, look around for people who seem troubled and go offer an ear or a shoulder.  If you don't see anyone like that, then just offer ears and shoulders to anyone God puts in front of you. 

Finally, and Mary, I believe this with all my heart, dramatic as that sounds:  You can save lives.

Right now, Mary, some alcoholic who relapsed is out there drinking, and heading for that terrible fork in the road:  Do I go back to AA, or do I just say screw it, and go ahead and drink myself to death?  If they come back in to AA to see if maybe, maybe they can try it one last time, you, Mary, with your journey, your willingness, your capacity to be honest with yourself, your ability to share your pain and fear and confusion -- you can use those things to reach that person in a manner no one else may be able to.  You can help them save their life.  And in that way, all the horrible, dark, confusing, fearful stuff which is the fallout from your relapse is alchemized into gold.  So you must practice giving and being of service now, Mary, so that when that person shows up -- and the countless others who will follow them -- you're ready to help.

And if you do that you will wake up one morning and realize that your connection to AA and a Higher Power came back without you even realizing it.  But bigger than that even, you won't just be connected to AA and feel closer to God, you will be an example of what AA creates every single day:  A miracle.  Because your past, your relapse cycle, is not your future.  One Day At A Time -- TODAY --  you can change that.

And that really and truly is a miracle.  It's there for you.  Trust, and please, please, keep coming back.

Love,
Mr. SponsorPants

p.s. -- And Gopher?  Watch yourself.  Total player.

The most dangerous words you can say in a prayer.

Well it's certainly not "please help me."  Those are simple to say and even easier to mean, when you're in trouble.  Drunk or sober, many's the time when my "please help me" was as heartfelt as humanly possible.

Nor is it "Thy will be done."  Kids, in a smackdown between you and the Creator of All Time and Space, while I'm most definitely in your corner, rooting for your continued success in sobriety (Go, You!), I'm gonna put my money on the C.o.A.T.a.S. -- for a TKO.  (No offense.)  But seriously, I'm thinking that the "Thy" in "Thy will" is gonna have it Their way, with or without your permission -- big of you though it is to offer it.

No, when you're in trouble -- real trouble -- and you ask God, the Universe or The Great Whatever for help, the most dangerous words you can say are:

"I'll do anything."

Be careful -- because if you say it, things will start happening.  The wheels of ... of the Something ... will start to turn.  And then "anything" is going to be presented to you, and you must stare down the barrel of just how much you might have been enjoying being stuck and not actually having to do anything about it.

Sometimes we like stuck a lot more than we realize.

When the opportunity to actually do something about your problems, whatever they may be, is presented to you from a Higher Power (as you understand Them) it can be a very rude awakening to see just how conditional you suddenly become on accepting Divine Help.

This is a little bit like waiting for an organ transplant, and as your Vital Signs start to fail, and the guy with the cooler races in from the heliport carrying your new liver/kidney/eyeball/whatever, reaching out from the gurney and saying, "Wait! Wait ... the donor ... were they blond?"

"I'll do anything."  I'm serious.  This prayer business is not all warm fuzzies and quiet moments -- be careful.  You just might tap into something that actually offers you the chance to step up and change.

Very scary.

Things I learned (or was reminded of) this week. First in a series.

1.  30 year old baggage is hard to let go of.

2.  Give people a break, you never know what's going on with them.

3.  We really are in The Miracle Business.

" ... there's a BOMB in your purse!" A play in 37 lines

GIBLET (shouting up the stairs):  Hey, Dumpling, where's the garage door remote?

DUMPLING (shouting down in answer):  I think it's in my purse.

GIBLET (still shouting up the stairs): Where's your purse?

DUMPLING (shouts back down again, exasperated):  Where I always put it!  On the chair by the door!

GIBLET: Okay! Jeeze!  You don't have to give me 'tude.  I just asked a question.

GIBLET crosses to the DUMPLING's pocket book and opens it

GIBLET (screams):  OH MY GOD!

DUMPLING (comes running downstairs):  GIBLET! What?  What?  Are you okay? What is it?

GIBLET:  There's ... there's a BOMB in your purse!

DUMPLING: A ... a bomb?!?  Oh! Oh, honey ...

DUMPLING laughs a little

DUMPLING:  Oh, honey, no.  That's not a bomb, that's my alcoholism.

GIBLET:  Your ... what?!?

DUMPLING:  My alcoholism.  It's always with me, so I decided to just put it in my purse where it would be handy.

GIBLET:  Your alcoholism.

DUMPLING:  Mmm hmmm.  Did you find the garage door remote?  It should be...

GIBLET:  Your alcoholism.  In your ...

GIBLET looks in purse again

GIBLET:  Oh My God!

DUMPLING:  What now?

GIBLET:  Is it ... is it ticking?

DUMPLING:  Well of course it is, honey.

GIBLET:  It's ticking ... like a countdown?  Like it could go off?  When will it go off? 

DUMPLING:  I don't know, exactly.  But every 24 hours I can reset the timer, and so far that seems to keep it from finishing its countdown.

GIBLET:  What if you forget to reset the timer?

DUMPLING (shrugs):  Then I guess eventually it would explode.

GIBLET:  Could you ... could people ... you know, get hurt?

DUMPLING:  If it goes off?  Oh yeah.  Absolutely.  People could die, actually.

GIBLET:  You've got to get rid of it!

DUMPLING (smiles):  Yeah, well, science one day may accomplish that, but it hasn't done so yet.  For now ... and for the foreseeable future ... it's always with me.  So that's why I decided, what the hell, it'd be handier if I just kept it in my purse.

GIBLET:  Is it heavy?  I mean, is it heavy to carry around?

DUMPLING:  Sometimes it seems that way.  I used to carry a lot of other bags too, of course, so naturally that made it more difficult to manage everything.  And all that other baggage, I mean, it was a lot.  Handling them all at once I occasionally forgot to reset the timer, but I guess I remembered in time.  Now I don't notice it so much.  The weight I mean.  I'm kind of used to it.  And of course I have a lot fewer bags than I used to, too.

GIBLET:  Well, that settles it.

DUMPLING:  Settles what?

GIBLET:  I'll help.  I'll carry it for you sometimes.

DUMPLING:  Awww, you really are sweet, you know.  But that won't work.  If you try and carry it for me, the timer just goes faster.  And I think it gets heavier too.  I'm afraid before you got it back to me it might go off.

GIBLET:  Well, is there anything I can do?

DUMPLING:  Not really.  I guess you just let me worry about resetting the timer on my alcoholism so it doesn't go off, and you worry about ... whatever it is you should worry about.

GIBLET (suspicious):  And what, exactly, might you be implying?

DUMPLING:  Nothing dear.  

Questions via Email: Cross Talk and Taking a Meeting Hostage

Mr. SponsorPants,

hi there.  i love your blog and sense of humor.  i am 2 and a half years sober and chair a friday night discussion meeting.
  we had a group conscience with one of the hot topics being cross talk and sharing too long.  there were some minor changes in the announcements at the beginning of the meetings now but many of us are sick and tired of being sick and tired of members taking meetings hostage by sharing too long or cross talking.  i will be attending the next group conscience to bring this up because i think stronger language needs to be added in the announcements to guard against this behavior.   cross talk sometimes takes the annoying form of certain regulars, commenting under their breath (for everyone to hear) after someone else shares such as mmm hmmm, oh yes i can relate to that, oh such a pity etc.   we have several regulars and i might mention, people with long term sobriety, who share for 10 minutes in a crowded meeting (30 or so people is crowded for us).   i think cross talk is hurtful to the newcomer because it shifts total focus onto a person who is obviously shameful and suffering.  plus, sharing too long hurts the newcomer who needs to hear other shares.   do you have an opinion on how we can restructure our cross talk and lengthy sharing rules so that people get it?  thanks for your help.  i am on a mission.
L

L --
Thanks so much for the kind words and the email question!  I think this is something many meetings struggle with in one way or another.

My suggestion is that you get very specific with the definition of Cross Talk in your meeting's format.  Years ago I called General Services in New York to see if they had an "official" definition of cross talk -- and they don't.  "Every group is autonomous" she told me on the phone, "so each group can define it as they choose."  (This was very dissapointing to me at the time, since I wasn't looking for a definition of cross talk so much as I was looking to trump someone who I thought was a pompous boob by sailing into the meeting and doing a big, "Oh yeah? Well I called General Services in New York and they said you were wrong!"  Occasionally God lets me off the hook and shields me from my own self-destructive impulses.  Only occasionally, that is.  God seems quite content to watch me act very badly and then have to clean it up and eat crow.  In fact some days my recovery has felt like an all-you-can-eat crow buffet.)

In my experience the best formats are as clear as possible, and hopefully not too lengthy.  I like to try to frame the issue in friendly terms, too.  Something like:

"While there is no "wrong" sharing, in a group conscience our meeting has elected to ask members to refrain from Cross Talk when they share.  In this meeting we define cross talk as specifically addressing someone else in your share, or making direct suggestions to someone during your own time for sharing.  AA is founded on the alcoholic's sharing of their experience, strength and hope, and while we encourage everyone to say whatever they need to in an effort to stay sober, we ask that you speak for yourself and not to others."

Okay, that's maybe still kind of wordy (my kryptonite is that the words just keep coming -- ask me "What time is it?" and I'll start talking about how to build a clock.  Sadly that ability was intact when I drank. Many's the occasion I "came to" someplace after a blackout drunk and had some stranger I woke up next to -- or under -- or handcuffed to -- or whatever, say, "Oh, hey, Sven, you sure were drunk last night!  Do you need to make it to that photo shoot you were talking about?"  As you can well imagine, my name is not Sven and I am neither a model nor a photographer.  And can I just say, a Swedish accent is a lot easier to fake when you're wasted.)

It's hard not to get carried away when trying to "explain" everything in a meeting format, but that's the spirit I've put into other formats along the way.  I try to remember when creating or amending a meeting format (and I would never amend a format unless a Group Conscience had been held to do so) that brevity fosters clarity.  I try to remember, but my memory is poor.  I drank a lot in my youth -- it's bound to have consequences.

The length-of-time sharing issue is an easy one.
Request a Group Conscience to vote on having a timer at the meeting -- it would be a new service commitment for someone.  In the G.C. pick a nice amount of time -- say three or four minutes.
I love timer meetings, as when one of my Great Spiritual Teachers is sharing (that is, one of the people who really challenge me) I can be at peace, knowing that I can just breathe deep and sit quietly -- the timer will go off in a few minutes.  I can sit through any share pretty peacefully if I know it's only going to be three or four minutes long.    And I like being timed when I share, since then I don't have that little part of my mind going, "gah! How long have I been blathering on? Have I been sharing forever and I didn't even realize it?"  You know how time gets sort of wonky when you're sharing.

In the format with a timer it usually says something like:

"This meeting has a timer as a friendly reminder to help people limit their sharing to X minutes.  When the timer goes off please conclude your thoughts so that others may have a chance to share." 

Hope that helps!

Again, thanks for writing and reading.

Cheers!

Mr. SP

Mr. SponsorPants,

i like this and it is super helpful.  a couple of other questions though--   1.  do you think a meeting of 25 people (our average) is enough to warrant using a timer?  instead, do you suggest in the opening announcements we simply say 'limit your sharing to no more than 5 minutes?  also, i think it may be good to add--if your sharing goes over 5 minutes it does not give others time to share.   2.  i need a good phrase for people who cross talk under their breath because most people do not consider this cross talk.  maybe something like, please respect the person who is sharing and avoid talking to your neighbor sitting next to you and please do not comment out loud when another is sharing.   thanks.     L.

L. ,

I'll take those by the numbers.

1.  I'm not being flip when I say this, but my opinion is not important, really.  My experience is that if you have people who regularly take the meeting hostage by sharing for 10 minutes at a time (and a real ten minutes, not an "It feels like ten minutes because this joker drives me bugmuck crazy and I can't stand listening to them go on about their stupid ________ every week!" subjective ten minutes) then a timer is a nice, orderly, even-handed way to address that.  Everyone gets the same amount of time (though if you have less to say that's fine too.)

But it is the expression of God's will, via an informed Group Conscience, that is the ultimate authority in Alcoholics Anonymous, so my opinion or even my experience at meetings in my town is just not very important next to what your group in your town votes to do.  In other words, put it up for a vote, and either try not to crow if it goes your way or try not to seethe if it doesn't.  Who knows?  Maybe the ten-minute-sharer's will finally get a clue, even if you all vote no timer -- or maybe they'll be outraged (outraged!) that you broached the subject, and go off and start their own windy meeting... maybe maybe is always fun to play, but that's guessing results, and AA teaches me to be about the footwork.  And you, L., are "on a mission" of footwork to try and help the meeting you're secretary of --  and mucho kudos to you for it! 

So ... ask to hold a business meeting in order to have a Group Conscience on changing the format to limit people's sharing to X minutes (pick a number.  Five is fine.) and to have a timer to gently remind people when their time is up.  The custom as I understand it is that you have a Group Conscience two weeks after you request one, announcing it the subsequent week as well, so that people can, if the issue is important to them, have enough notice to be sure to be there and participate in the vote.  In your first email you called it a "hot topic" -- so in the spirit of fair mindedness I'd give ample opportunity for all who are interested to attend.

At the business meeting keep it simple, and try (this is the hard part, L) not to "aim" this at any of your long winded members.  The point I hear you trying to make is that a timer limiting the length of shares is a way for more people to have the chance to participate in the meeting, and thus their own sobriety  (Why, a vote against what you're suggesting isn't just a vote against your idea, it's a vote against sobriety!  Throw that one around and watch people's heads explode.  I am laughing so hard as I type that.  So evil.)

2.  This one is much, much harder.
I am sure I would find it very distracting if there were a lot of not-quite-under-your-breath "amen!" kind of commentary from the floor of the meeting.  Personally I feel strongly that it is not for me to issue any kind of judgment -- positive or negative -- on someone's sharing.  I don't know how raw someone might be feeling.  I have no real knowledge of how tough it might be to talk about a particular issue for some people.  So even a well intentioned "kind word" can be harmful.  The point here is about making a safe space for newcomers, and alcoholics sharing something difficult, alike.  I have great respect for that goal, and I share it in every meeting I'm a part of.  And I have found that neutrality equals safety in these things.  (In the interest of full disclosure I must confess I am a bit of a "nodder" though.  If someone is sharing something I feel strongly in agreement with I occasionally find myself nodding "yes" -- I try to watch that though.)

BUT, in my experience, it can also be a slippery slope to come up with too many rules for people's conduct in AA.  We're difficult and rebellious by nature.  Start fencing me in and I start kicking walls just because you started fencing me in, not because I have any real desire to kick the walls.

With that said, if the "oh dear" or "atta girl!" input is just really out of control, let me amend what I wrote above -- maybe something like this would be helpful:

In this meeting we define cross talk as speaking while other people are sharing, specifically addressing someone else in your share, or making direct suggestions to someone during your own time for sharing,

I think the phrases you came up with to cover the issue in your email are excellent also, L.  Those are likely even better to use since they come to the point very succinctly.  As I said, I do tend to go on.

Being secretary is a tough service commitment.  It's hard not to take larger responsibility for how the whole meeting is going rather than let it be as it will.  Sounds to me like you're working to take the commitment seriously and do a good job -- which is good for the meeting, sure, but more importantly is great for your own sobriety.

Hope this all helps -- and now you've got to let me know what happens!

Cheers!

Mr. SP

look behind me

If I can't see God working in my life today, and I somehow can't imagine God working in my life when I look forward to tomorrow, all I have to do is remember to look behind me, to the past.

With the long view of looking back over the course of my drinking and my recovery, I can often see clear evidence of something -- or I guess it should be Something -- working powerfully on my behalf.

And when today troubles and frightens me -- sometimes for good reason -- that long view of the past can again help me see that what at the time looked like a disaster -- what troubled and frightened me then -- actually proved to be for my greater good.

Thus, when I am lost in doubt, I can look at the hard evidence of yesterday to find my way back to a reawakened faith that works today.  Sometimes I can't see God standing right next to me -- sometimes to see my Higher Power I must look behind me.

 

 

Questions via email: Newcomer girl wants sex

Dear Mr. SponsorPants,

Newcomer girl wants sex.  What should I do I know someone is going to do it.

Signed,
Ethical Fellow

Dear Ethical Fellow,

Before I answer you directly, let's hear from some other sources.

First, a quick quote from the book "Alcoholics Anonymous" (AA's Big Book) on the topic of sex:

"God alone can judge our sex situation.  Counsel with persons is often desirable, but we let God be the final judge.  We realize that some people are as fanatical about sex as others are loose.  We avoid hysterical thinking or advice." -- Big Book, Chapter 5, "How It Works" pgs. 69 - 70

And now, a sound bite from Cheap Trick:

"I want you to want me.  I need you to need me. I'd love you to love me.  I'm beggin' you to beg me." -- Opening stanza of 'I Want You To Want Me' by Rick Nielsen of Cheap Trick, 1977

And finally, a word from (of all people) Henry Kissinger -- I tried to confirm the source on this, I'd always heard it was Henry, but the Internet let me down on that one -- anyway, if it wasn't him, it should have been:

"Everything is about sex except sex.  Sex is about power."

Ethical Fellow, the brevity of your email speaks to a real concern about this situation, and I sincerely admire that.

It is my opinion that when people who are new to Alcoholics Anonymous show you their sexuality, they are not actually showing you their sexuality, they are showing you their damage.  Or their ego.  Or their fear.  Because I think when people are newly sober, adrift without any of their old coping mechanisms, Cheap Trick said it best:  I want you to want me.

Let me make a leap sideways here for a minute. 

When I first showed up in Alcoholics Anonymous I was madly trying to entertain everyone -- and I was okay at it, even if it was sometimes more from desperation (as it was then) than joy (as it feels like now).  Without a drink in my hand, I had no idea how to be with people -- so I fell back on this other, core, primary defense mechanism: making people laugh.  And if people hadn't laughed (occasionally) at my wisecracks, I wouldn't have felt safe or welcome, no matter how much everyone told me that I was safe and welcome in AA -- and that might have made it harder for me to come back. 

I believe for some newcomers, sex, flirtation and sexuality is their version of my mad need to entertain when I was new.  Maybe part of their background (and damage) is that the only place they felt valued or had any safety/power was in being desired -- not even necessarily going through with the act, but in getting an invitation to the dance, so to speak.

As I'm sure you're aware, the problem arises when other people in meetings with their own damage and need to fix themselves sexualize people who are new to AA.  The Big Book says "we are not a glum lot" and that is true -- but we are not a "well" lot either.  We get better every one-day-at-a-time we stay sober, but for each of us that is a slow transformation, and if you catch me on the wrong day, I'm more mess than message.

From the 4th Step inventory process, AA suggests we shape a sex life that is not dishonest, and does not include selfishness and self-seeking.  That we try hard not to purposely arouse jealousy, bitterness or suspicion.  But AA does not suggest this from any moral high ground -- it does so because from bloody experience alcoholics have learned that when we act in that fashion in the powerful arenas of sex, intimacy and romance, we pay a psychic, spiritual, mental and emotional price -- a price so high that it sends many of us back to drinking and using.

So people who sexualize newcomers and take them up on their potentially (in my opinion) damaged need to be valued for their body, are not doing anything wrong in the strict, biblical, moral sense (as I understand what AA is trying to help me with) but rather are damaging themselves and others because they are acting in a profoundly selfish manner -- they are placing their gratification, be it sexual or ego-based, above the comfort and safety of a new person in AA.

For me it is important to untangle the idea of morality from sobriety on the topic of sex.  It keeps me clear and helps me avoid "hysterical thinking" of my own.

So with all of that as framework, my direct answer to your question "what should I do" is the following:

Try not to get in the middle of anything.  God has a hand in all this too.  I have learned more from my mistakes than I have from the best intentions of people who tried to help me when I didn't want their help at the time.  You framed your question with the word "wants" in it.  Maybe what the newcomer girl wants is validation, and if she doesn't get it she won't stay.  I do not think that anyone should act on her invitation, but what I'm saying is that I don't know her deeper motives and needs -- sadly, since she's new to AA, neither does she.  But since those things are not clear, I first caution you not to get in the middle of anything.

But I do not think that a totally passive stance is the right thing either.  I would suggest speaking to a few of the women you know and respect in the meetings one-on-one, and share your concerns with them.  Perhaps it will spark one of them to take this young woman under her wing, which, in matters such as this, can only be a good thing.

Then, I think you should talk to your sponsor about your concerns, with the idea that you can use this as a jumping off place for a deeper look, using the 12 Step tools, at your own issues in this arena.  Let me be clear:  I admire your concern, and would likely share it if I were there.  BUT I believe I should always look at my part in things -- both to build my self esteem and remain vigilant against my character defects gaining traction.  For example, clearly you take the safety of newcomers in meetings seriously.  You have a highly developed regard for AA as a whole.  etc., etc.

The other side of the coin which I look at in myself (and I'm not saying these things are operating in you, this is only an example from some of my own, similar examinations) -- am I jealous that someone is able to express their needs so freely?  Does it make me angry that I am trying to be "good" and I know other people aren't working on the same value system I am?  Where in this am I playing God, that is, deciding how everyone should behave?  What are my own opinions about sex and sexuality, and how are they fueling fears and resentments both in and out of the rooms of AA?  Is there anything in my background I haven't fully dealt with that might give me an increased sensitivity to some of these things?

Again, those are questions I've asked myself, I am not saying they apply to you -- I offer them only as an example of how I check myself in my own inventory work by being a little more specific than some of the Big Book is on the topic.  There are also a ton of questions about sex and sex relations in the book "Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions" (AA's 12 &12) as I'm sure you know.   They might be useful as well.

So to boil it down:

Don't get in the middle of anything.
Talk to some good sober gals.
Turn the lens on yourself as well, all the things that disturb me are chances for me to grow in my recovery.

Broadly speaking there's really nothing "wrong" with this woman, if she is of age, having consensual sex with anyone she likes -- even people in AA meetings.

But as a newcomer in AA, there's really not a lot "right" about it either.

Here's the thing:
In AA, you don't have to take off your pants to get the hug.

But different newcomers learn that truth via different routes.

Ethical Fellow, you're a good AA for being moved to write this question, and I hope some of this answer has been helpful to you.

All the best,
Mr. SponsorPants

This is not a story about loyalty. Part 2

Apparently he solicited an undercover cop.

I'm not sure of the gorey details much beyond that.  Whether, he offered, shall we say, an exchange of goods for services, or was attempting to have sexual intercourse rather than social, in a setting designed for the latter and not the former... whatever it was, he got popped by the cops.

And he was in a committed relationship.

And he had to call his partner to get him out of jail.

Imagine that call.

"Hi honey.  It's me.  I'm going to be just a little late coming home.  In fact, I need you to come get me.  Hmmm?  Oh, uh ... downtown.  And honey?  Bring your checkbook."

Eeesh.

The partner came down, bailed him out, and they are still together as of this writing, more than sixteen years later.

But this is still not a story about loyalty.

_________________________

AA literature warns about "when boy meets girl on AA campus" in the context of being careful that romantic interests do not complicate spiritual ones.  When new, our fledgling recovery is pretty easily overwhelmed by the crush groove, and if you're more interested in who your obsession sweetheart is sitting next to at the meeting than what the speaker is saying, that's a problem.

My very first sponsor used to quote his sponsor to me all the time on this:  "You don't shop for a wife at Bellevue Mental Hospital; so why would you date in AA?" was his little joke.  Good point, in general.

Yet to have the language of recovery in common, to be pursuing the same spiritual path, to have the resources and tools from the 12 Steps and the Fellowship available to build a romantic partnership with someone ... I have seen it work, and work beautifully.

My Sarcastic Sponsor who got arrested for lewd conduct was part of such a relationship.  They were both 12 Steppers, so the whole "affair" (too significant a word for what he was likely engaged in) was, I'm afraid to say, somewhat unavoidably brought into the meetings.  People are people, AA'ers no less so -- and some people love to gossip.

I feel compelled to add that not all discussion is gossip, however.  I have talked "about" people with sponsors or friends over the years in a sincere effort to puzzle something out, or untangle the mess from the message.  We maintain anonymity as a great equalizing force in AA, and "what we hear there stays there" to paraphrase a commonly held 12 Step tenent -- primarily so that meetings remain a safe place to bring problems and hear solutions -- but not all discussion of others is malicious.

Just sometimes.

_________________________

Sarcastic Sponsor called me a day or two after he'd been arrested.

Him:  Hello.

Me (surprised he called, he was a good call return-er, but never initiated a call to me):  Oh!  Hello. What's ... I mean, how are you?

Him:  Have you heard that I was arrested?

He was always direct.  Never liked to beat around the bush.

Oh. Perhaps that's a poor choice of phrase here.

Me:  Arrested?  No! Are you okay?

Him:  Are you lying?

Silence.

Me:  Yes.  I heard yesterday.

Silence again.  I imagine he was taking a moment to put on his sponsorial crash helmet.  I wear sponsor pants, but I fear that the men and women who worked with me in early sobriety likely needed some form of protective gear.

Him:  Why did you lie?

He was always catching me in these little lies, and asking me why I did them.  It was something both excruciating and very valuable to me about his sponsorship.  From his repeatedly asking if I was lying I had lost any sense of offense at the question, and in answering him began to see patterns in the little people-pleasing social lies that still permeated much of my life at the time.  In this fashion I was getting amazing insight into what drove me.  Or paralyzed me, depending.

Me:  I didn't know what to say.  Or, I guess I didn't want to hurt your feelings, too.  Or, I ... I was just uncomfortable.

Him:  Okay.

Me:  So, are you okay?

Him:  Yes. 

We chatted a bit more, but I don't remember the specifics.  Confirmed our standing coffee date before the big Friday night meeting and ended the call.

When I told him that I'd heard about his arrest, and some of the circumstances surrounding it, I did not mention that I had gotten a call from one of the funniest -- and most twisted -- members of my sober posse.

Mr. Twister:  Pants!  Your sponsor got arrested!

Me:  What are you talking about?  Is this like the time you tried to convince me that your mother had multiple personality disorder, and when I met her I needed to call her Stan?

Mr. Twister:  Better!  It's true!  Your sponsor got arrested for Lewd Conduct.

The way he said it you could hear the capital letters.

Me:  What are you talking about, he's in a ...

Mr. Twister didn't even let me finish.  He jumped in and passed along, in the most unflattering terms possible -- which was the stock in trade for his humor -- what little he knew about the arrest and my sponsor being bailed out by his partner.

Mr. Twister:  So, are you going to get a new sponsor?

This caught me totally off guard.

Me:  I ... no.  I mean ... why would I ... ?  No.  I don't know. 

Mr. Twister:  Why would you ... ?  For a guy who thinks so much about his sobriety you sure don't think much of your sobriety.

Me:  Shut up, Twist, that doesn't even make sense.  I don't even know what that means.

Mr. Twister was always saying those kind of things, jokes with barbs in them, expert-sounding statements and judgments that were little more than posturing.  It was like his Act.  I both enjoyed his humor and felt kind of lousy after hanging out with him.  A few years after this story takes place he began to nurse a huge resentment for the secretary of a meeting ... then for that whole meeting ... then for all the meetings, until at last he cursed me out and told me that he was "sick of all this AA bullshit."  As you can imagine we sort of lost touch after that.  I don't mean I shunned him, but ... without AA we had almost nothing in common.

A few years later I got a call from his mother (who I fortunately had never called Stan) asking me to write Mr. Twister in prison.  Drunk Driving - Vehicular Homicide.  I imagined that Mr. Twister's Act might not be going over so well in Cell Block 7, or wherever.

What makes me sad about that is not what happened to Mr. Twister so much -- it's that it is such a cliche.

He hated cliches.

_________________________

The "big" Friday night meeting was a speaker/sharing meeting.  Someone would speak, select a topic, and then people would step up to the lectern at the front of the room and share.

My sponsor and I had coffee before hand as per usual, and although I expected to be uncomfortable he was just his normal self for the most part, equally stern and direct with me about my working the 12 Steps.  If I recall correctly I was back to wrestling the 3rd Step to the ground, as this was my second pass through all 12 Steps.  I must have been doing somewhat better with the whole thing, since I think I only got one eyebrow raise out of him the entire time.

I had to get to the meeting early to make the coffee, and so we took separate cars.  He usually showed up a little later. 

The parking lot for the meeting was at the bottom of a little rise.  In other words you could stand outside the meeting room, in the back, and look down on the parking lot below.  I made the coffee and greeted people as they started to show up for the meeting.  This was a tough group for me, and I was grateful for the stage business of fussing with the coffee urns and cups and creamers and three kinds of sweeteners -- it gave me a bit of a purpose and helped me not feel like such a freak.  Looking at me straightening cups you would have no idea that inside my head was a constant drumbeat: You're a Freak. Loser. Freak. Loser.   I could tell the drummer to lay off, but in early sobriety he often ignored me and kept right on drumming.  The things I have said to myself in my head are far worse than the cruelest cut I've ever heard spoken to my face.  AA eventually silenced that drum, one day at a time.

I stepped out the back to have a cigarette -- trying to savor it as I knew those were probably going to be sacrificed to the 12 Step Gods soon enough ... unfortunately the savoring was often lost in the self loathing of "still" being a smoker.  As my first sponsor had said, "Smoke, if you like it.  If you don't like it and you still smoke, then there's your problem -- but if that's the case, it's not a problem it's an addiction -- and you have tools for that."

My Sarcastic Sponsor had put it a bit differently:  "Oh no, by all means, keep smoking.  Somebody's got to 12th Step the other smokers in the cancer ward, might as well be you."

I looked down the rise and saw him, my Sarcastic Sponsor, sitting in his car.  The engine was off, the headlights dark ... he was just sitting.  (Remember, kids, this is years before cell phones, so today while you might assume someone was making a call, or breathlessly updating their Twitter: "I'm sitting! In my car!" back then there was not much to do alone in a parked car with the engine off but sit.)  Some people wandered out from the meeting room behind me, I chatted with them, and tried to practice really listening to what they said, rather than being all trapped in my mind, plotting the next thing I was going to say and waiting for my turn to talk again -- just like Sarcastic Sponsor had been suggesting I do.

The meeting started and I looked down.  He was still sitting in his car.  I was torn.  Should I go see if he's okay?  Would he be mad if I didn't go into the meeting? 

You know what my ego said?  (God, this is so embarrassing.)

My ego said, "Go down, and then maybe he'll share in front of the whole meeting how you came and talked to him when he was lonely and afraid."  At least by then in my sobriety I could recognize my ego's voice, and tell it to shut its sick, out-of-proportion mouth.  Today I know that it's less the motive and more the action that matters, but it is still a terrible, disgusting thing, to find your ego reducing someone else's pain to nothing more than an opportunity for petty personal glory.

I turned and went into the meeting.

About five minutes later Sarcastic Sponsor came in and took a chair in the back.

I couldn't tell you about what the speaker said.  I was too busy watching my sponsor out of the corner of my eye, to see if he was okay, or what was going on with him.

The speaker concluded, and the floor was open for sharing.  My sponsor raised his hand.  High.  I remember that very clearly.  He raised his hand as if the question the speaker asked was not "Who would like to begin the sharing?" as it said in the format, but rather "Who here is convinced they're going to die if they don't share right away?"

Most of the people had heard about his arrest by then, I'm sure.  With Mr. Twister and his ilk on the case, how could they not have?  But this was AA, and although we are skewered and slow roasted on the spit of our character defects as often as not, there is something special that happens in meetings.  Thus, there was no whisper, no nervous titter, as my sponsor came to the front of the room and stepped to the lectern.

_________________________

I started this whole story with an observation about when and why, over the years, I've changed sponsors.

People bring an extraordinary amount of baggage to the sponsor relationship -- from both sides.  And in sorting through that it is not surprising that there are all kinds of expectations of what a sponsor "should" be.  After all, we tell people that are new to find someone in the 12 Step world who "has what you want."  (Though we mean that in spiritual terms, it has certainly on occasion been misinterpreted.)

And although Mr. Twister put it unkindly, it was a question I asked myself after news of my sponsor's arrest had eventually sunk in:  Is that the kind of guy I want sponsoring me?  Does he, "have what I want?"  I don't think it would be too much to suggest that based on this mess, no, maybe he doesn't.

And then my sponsor shared at the Friday night meeting.

I told you this is not a story about loyalty.  I didn't stay with my sponsor at that time out of some inappropriate sense of obligation, or a fear of confrontation, or rampant people pleasing.  (I saved all that for when I started dating, later in sobriety.)

This is a story about the power of honesty, and humility, and surrender and sharing.  This is a story about walking the talk, and how that saves lives.  This is a story about how not only can you not save your ass and your face at the same time, when you stop trying to you inspire others to do the same.

_________________________

He stood at the lectern and shared what happened.  He was specific, but not salacious.  He was calm and honest.  The man, while sarcastic one-on-one, could be wickedly funny when speaking to a group, but he didn't "go there" that night, in that share.  He didn't hide behind his ability to turn a phrase, or bluff his way through with attitude.

If I tried to recreate here exactly what he said I would barely do him justice.  But I remember sitting transfixed by the experience of listening to an alcoholic with some good years sober talk about this fresh, deep pain and dysfunction.  About his guilt and how it was trying to take him to shame (two different things -- I got that from him).  About his powerlessness in this new area of his life, and his terror at how this occurred in his sobriety.  And he talked about his ego, and how it was screaming at him to be quiet.  About how this experience shattered his personal mythology of trying to be this "very" sober man in front of everyone, rather than the reality of being this messy sober man -- in front of everyone.

And he talked about the solution.  He talked about doing the footwork, about going to an additional 12 Step Program rather than hiding behind his "time" in Alcoholics Anonymous, and his fear about being new all over again.

And he shared that he knew in his gut that if he didn't address this it had the power to make him drink again.

In some ways what he did was take his ego out and smash it in front of us.

And rather than that being a violent act what I learned that night is that it is a miraculous one.

And I wanted what he had.

The echo of my own ego's sick whisper was still fresh in my mind.  "... he'll share in front of the whole meeting how you ..."

I wanted what he had because I knew that with his help I could learn to do the same thing when I eventually needed to.  And at a few years sober I had no doubt at all that eventually, down the line, by my own hand most likely, I would most definitely need to.

And believe me, I have.

_________________________

Later -- much later -- I asked him about when he was sitting down in his car before the meeting.

"I was praying."  He said.  "Praying for God to help me take my hand off the key in the ignition and not turn the car back on and drive away.  Praying for the strength to come up the stairs and share."

And for some reason I asked him about when he raised his hand.

"Oh, Mr. SponsorPants," he said, "this," and he raised his hand low, about even with his head, "is drying your nails."  Then he gave me one of his rare smiles, "And this" he raised his hand high, high above his head, "is I need to share!"

It works better with the visual -- I use that example with my sponsees to this day.

This is not a story about loyalty. Part 1

I have heard some people say, when sharing about their sponsor, words to the effect, "... and I've had the same sponsor for the whole X years I've been sober!" or some similar assertion as to never having changed sponsors.

It seems to me that, if they're not bragging exactly, there's an inference that this is somehow better than having had different sponsors over the course of your sobriety.

In my experience it's less about how many sponsors you've had than why you change from one to another.

Myself, in more than 20 years sober I've had 6 sponsors.

When I've changed sponsors it's been for a number of reasons; primarily geographical or spiritual.  In each case the reason seemed pretty good for my ongoing sobriety, yet I usually ran it by my sober "posse" to make sure I wasn't kidding myself about one thing or another.  (That's a life saving habit, kids, to keep airing your thoughts with not just a spiritual mentor but your sober peers as well.)

But of all the different times and various reasons that made changing sponsors seem like a good, sound idea, I did not decide to change when, about 16 or so years ago, the man I had sponsoring me at the time was arrested for lewd conduct.

This is not a story about loyalty.

___________________________

I'd moved to a new city, and was keenly aware that at only a handful of years sober it was a very, very bad idea to be "flying solo."  This was my first "big" move in sobriety, and from it I learned the unsettling lesson that not all AA meetings have the same customs as the ones I got sober in -- or, to quote one of my friends, "Nobody makes lasagna like your momma makes lasagna."

But as has been the case with every new AA community I've moved into, I understood deep down that those people had my life in their hands, and it was up to me to make it work.  So I got busy taking service commitments and raising my hand to say I was there and sober and new in town.  There was a lot of "fake it till you make it" going on for me at that time.  I was pretending I was comfortable, pretending I liked the meeting formats, pretending I didn't want to leave the meeting half way through with an excuse that I'd left something in my car or had an appointment to give blood or had promised I'd distribute blankets to the little children of the poor.  In truth at the time I was very, very lonely.  The job I had taken for the move was a terrible fit for me (one word: Accounting.  Which is a little bit like thinking Liberace would make a good bullfighter because he liked satin pants and big capes.  One might see how you could draw such a conclusion at first glance, but even the bull is puzzled by how it plays out) and I really missed my old sober stomping grounds and friends.

I heard him speak in my first week in the new town, and what he said resonated with me -- I knew if I put it off I'd never ask him to sponsor me, so I asked him on the spot.  He was an imposing figure, a bit like Ichabod Crane on steroids.  Or Captain Hook without the hook and the pirate drag.  Somehow he managed to be both very tall and a bit stoop shouldered, with strong features and eyebrows that could call you a liar. 

Seriously.  Half way through offering him some bullshit excuse he would just look at me, deadpan, and one eyebrow would s-l-o-w-l-y start to go up - the only thing on his whole face that was moving.  If I had rehearsed my excuse enough, and had the temerity to continue to spin my sorry tale, the other eyebrow would decide that the first must be lonely up there, and would s-l-o-w-l-y rise to join its brother, leaving my sponsor looking, not surprised in general, so much as surprised I could still possibly be trying to convince him that what I was saying had any merit.

Up until him my sponsors had been warm and accepting, with lots of sage, paternal advice, offered in such a way as to make it easy to imagine them on the other end of the phone wearing a cardigan sweater and smoking a pipe.

Not him.

He had no patience with alcoholism or nonsense.  He did not, as the expression goes, suffer fools gladly.  And when he was not suffering fools, he was sarcastic about it.

Me:  Yeah, so, I lucked into some really great tickets for that concert I told you about Friday night.

Eyebrow Number One begins the ascent.

Me:  And, I was thinking, you know, since I love that band, I could get someone to cover my coffee commitment for the Friday meeting and ...

Eyebrow Number One has hit the apex, and at the phrase "cover my commitment" Eyebrow Number Two starts to float upwards.

Me:  So, you know, they say AA is a bridge back to life, and I thought Friday night I'd go over the bridge, you know?

And then I offered a weak laugh.

Now, the truth was that this Friday night meeting intimidated me, and I'd have scheduled a colonoscopy for that night if I could have, rather than go and make coffee for that crew.  I wasn't even that crazy about the band playing ... I just wanted a good reason to dodge the meeting, and I figured the price of a concert ticket and a little spin on how much I liked the band might be reason enough.

He looked at me for what was probably just a few seconds, but felt like forever, with virtually no expression, his eyebrows back to cruising altitude.  Then, he offers me this:

Him:  Well, here's a thought -- why don't you skip the meeting and go to the concert, and then, some sad night in the future, if you think you're going to drink, call the band, and see if they can help you stay sober.

And then he turned and walked away.

I thought sponsors were supposed to be nice!  But him?  He was sarcastic!  Downright rude!

And exactly what I needed at the time.

End of Part 1