Mr. SponsorPants

Narrow roads and broad highways

"The road gets narrower" is an expression heard often enough in AA meetings, and neatly encapsulates the idea that, in sobriety, what used to fix us tends to stop working after a while.

It struck me today, though, I don't think this expression actually occurs in the book "Alcoholics Anonymous" (AA's Big Book.)

While I believe there's much truth to the sentiment, (and certainly as I've written about before, it has been very true for me over the years), what AA really talks about is a Broad Highway -- as in how, should you stay sober, you will join with others on the Broad Highway of life/recovery/spiritual growth.

For me today, taken together those two phrases make for a larger truth.

It occurred to me, isn't every fix ultimately the same thing at its rotten heart?  Whether it is food or sex or shopping or whatever (the window dressing varies) aren't they all just a way to blot out the world, avoid dealing with life on life's terms, and focus inward -- solely on myself?  And then the attendant self-abuse, the same old same old shame, the tired circular litany of would-have-could-have-should-have ... aren't those just further exercises in turning within, staying small, keeping my life chronically rooted in the weary rut of checking out?

The fix stops fixing.

The process of the 12 Steps, applied and reapplied, eventually makes the fix an uncomfortable (even intolerable) act -- pulling my focus from myself onto my fellows (from looking inward to looking outward).  Ultimately it is not that I am able to do less, but that as the self-obsessive escape mechanisms fail I am capable of doing much, much more -- because without the fix and its ever-tightening inward spiral, there is space for real and truly nourishing things, honest healthy connections, to form.

As with most things spiritual, on the surface it seems a paradox, but for me today a narrower road leads to a wider life -- the Broad Highway.

.

a sweet freedom

The topic of the meeting was the last part of the 12th Step: "... practice these principles in all our affairs."

There is an avalanche of writing about AA, the 12 Steps and recovery out there now (especially online), and that is all to the good -- if any of it helps anyone make it through a tough hour, then it is a worthwhile thing.

That phrase, "... practice these principles in all our affairs ..." in particular has been discussed at great length -- there is even a little card floating around, upon which some well intentioned soul distilled the principle for each of the Steps down to one word -- to be honest I'm ambivalent about that particular tool, but again, if it helps someone get through the night, then it's a good thing.

Regardless of your take on what the principles are (and there are a number of places in the AA literature as a whole which discuss them specifically), in general what I have found, after some years of giving them my best effort, is that one of the greatest things they do for me is tell me who I am -- how I'm going to behave in any situation, with any people, on any "stage." 

If you lie to me I do not lie to you.  If you judge me I don't judge you (that's a tough one, I grant you -- but if you can achieve it a particularly potent kind of peace results).
If you steal from me I do not steal from you.  If you lash out at me I try not to respond in kind -- and with practice, I can even refrain from responding without "stuffing" how I feel.

To many this would seem less like a spiritual ideal and a lot more like being a doormat.  But my experience is that when I can really live this it means I become completely free.  No one, no situation, dictates my behavior.  No individual has the power to change me, to push me into sickness, to ruin my day.

I maintain this equilibrium not from any lofty goal of trying to be a better person, but so that I stay sober.  When an alcoholic loses their balance badly enough they can be in real danger of drinking.  Living these principles (and no one can do it perfectly) keeps me balanced -- old behavior brings old (sick) feelings, but new behavior (these principles, certainly a new way to behave when I was beginning this sober journey, and still new in their way every time I choose them over my alcoholism) brings esteem, serenity, sobriety ... and one of the joyous byproducts of this course is an almost complete freedom from anyone (or anything) dictating my actions. 

I submit to AA's suggested principles and in so doing no one rules or runs me.

That is a sweet freedom and a special kind of harmony when moving through life -- I hope never to lose sight of it or move too far from trying to live it.

It's a little bit like that "six degrees of Kevin Bacon" thing.

This story is old now, the dust has settled on the "breaking news" aspect of it, so I feel comfortable sharing it here in a very general way.

______________________________________________________________________________

A sponsee of mine had been casually seeing someone (you really don't need me to spell that out, right?) and the "someone" turned out to be newly sober, though my sponsee didn't know that when they met.

They "casually saw" each other on and off, as grownups do, when their schedules were free and when in the mood.  No drama around that, all parties involved were consenting adults.  They both eventually ran into each other at an AA meeting, but the one activity didn't really overlap with the other...

until...

...the person my sponsee was seeing sent them a text talking about relapse -- the text was garbled and it was unclear to my sponsee when they read it whether this was a disclosure of having already relapsed, or an abbreviated call for help that they were going to relapse.

(Aside to the new kids:  If you're in trouble, don't freakin' Tweet about it -- go old school and give someone a call.  Yes.  An actual telephone call.  I promise your mobile device still actually does that.)

Thus the phone call to me.  My sponsee filled me in on the nature of the connection and asked for my two cents on the best, most helpful next move in responding...

...except that as we talked, and my sponsee filled me in, I realized that I also sponsored the roommate of the person that the first sponsee had been casually seeing, and had called me about, even though my sponsee was making every effort to be circumspect themselves, to respect the anonymity of the person who texted them. (I swear to you we live in a big city.  There are thousands of AA meetings here every week, and as many ways for two consenting adults who want to casually see someone to meet as there are actual consenting adults to go around.)

Still with me?  Okay.

So... as soon as I realized this, so that I didn't feel like I was keeping a secret from the sponsee who had called me, I explained that I actually knew who this person was that had texted, and that they were concerned about, and that in fact I sponsored the person they'd been casually seeing's roommate.

Then we talked about the best way to approach, via helping another alcoholic, this person.  My sponsee is a good AA, and just wanted to touch base with someone before reaching out.  We brainstormed a bit and shared with each other some things we'd heard that had been helpful to us about relapse, either stepping back from it before it happens or stopping it from playing out to its worst conclusion if it has already started.

Naturally I assured my sponsee that the details of what we discussed would stay between us.  Someone had asked them for help, they in turn asked me for some ideas on how best to do that -- the relapse and etc., was not something I would pass along.

Because here's the thing:  I felt ethically bound not to violate the confidentiality of the first sponsee with the second, even though the second was going to certainly be impacted by their roommate's relapse -- they had met via AA and it was a "sober" apartment.

To check myself on this, I prayed about it some, then picked up the phone and talked to an old friend of mine, sober for 20+ years himself, and in another city, so I could disclose the scenario without feeling like I was carrying tales.  My belief was that my second sponsee was not in danger of his own relapse from the relapse of his roommate.  (Based on a number of things I won't go into here, but solidly rooted in the fact that my second sponsee was heavily involved in AA, had just finished some serious Step work, and had a real equilibrium in their recovery.  Because equal to my obligation to the sponsee who called me was my obligation to the other sponsee to speak up if I thought their sobriety was in any jeopardy.)  My friend listened to me, and felt like my conclusions, given what I knew, were pretty solid.

Then I just had to be helpful to the first sponsee as they moved into 12th Step mode and be close-mouthed and ready to be of help to the second sponsee as this whole thing came to light.

Which it eventually did.  And we've had several conversations since about how they were going to deal with this in the context of wanting to live in a "sober" household.

Of course once things came out, (without disclosing anything about the first sponsee to the second), so that I didn't feel like I was being dishonest I let the second sponsee know that yes, I was already aware of the roommate's relapse (for that's what it turned out to be) but hadn't told them for reasons that were about keeping other people's confidences -- weighed against anything potentially threatening their sobriety -- which I judged to be safe and solid -- and it was and is (for today -- as with any of us, just for today.)

If you think this story is over dramatized, and after reading to this point you wonder, "Jeeze, what's the big deal, sounds like a soap opera more than anything else..." I fear I am perhaps not making the points I want to as well as I might -- so in an effort to be clear let me list the five that I feel worthwhile:

1.  One of the most important aspects of sponsorship is trust -- because when people are struggling with addiction, they're literally trying to save their own life.  Thus, it's no trifling matter when someone comes to you with a problem -- they need to have trust both in the sponsor/sponsee connection and that the details of what they're confiding will indeed remain confidential.

2.  When a sponsor sees a situation that may threaten a sponsee's sobriety, it is their responsibility to speak up -- even if they may be wrong.  Better to be mistaken and have a sponsee be sober (irritated maybe, but sober) than not say anything and wish that you had.

3.  There were a lot of phone calls back and forth as this unfolded, but none of it was gossip -- talking about how to best help someone, and asking for confirmation on your conclusions -- is always the right thing to do.  Confidentiality doesn't mean we can't ask for assistance in figuring out the best way to help.  No one has to try to handle 12th Step work on their own -- nor should they.

4.  AA can better help you if you pick up the phone before you pick up the drink -- but if you goof that up, still pick up the phone, because probably we can still help (once you sober up).

5.  Maybe I gotta get out of this town.

Questions via Email: Accept vs. Tolerate

Dear Mr Sponsor Pants: 

I am writing you to ask for help in clearing up the difference between Accept and Tolerate. There are so many "extensions" of each, plus they seem so similar yet very different, I am not sure where to start. 

Accept vs Tolerate 
Acceptance vs Tolerance 
Acceptable vs Tolerable 
Unacceptable vs Intolerable 

Then I start to get into:

Accepting Intolerable Behavior 

or even

Tolerating Unacceptable Behavior 

Beyond this I am kind of stuck. It feels something like one is much healthier then the other. But I am not sure why or which is cleaner, or if both can be equally clean depending on how they are used. 

Help.

Sincerely,

M.

Dear M.,

You wrote, "Beyond this I am kind of stuck" -- beyond this?!?  If that's the case, it puts you much farther along than I am -- I'm still reeling from all your "this versus that" -- it's like some kind of World Wrestling Federation Philosophical Smackdown!

First, for the new kids, lets give some context as to where in the 12 Step world these ideas come into play.  Briefly speaking (and roughly speaking too, so please, those of you who are great Recovery Literature Scholars forgive my shortcuts -- no directly quoted passages or page numbers today I'm afraid) the idea of tolerance is of course very much in line with the larger "design for living" which AA suggests.  Specifically, AA states, "love and tolerance is our code." Elsewhere the AA literature talks about "... a real tolerance of others..." is how we may be of maximum usefulness when trying to carry AA's message.

Acceptance is an ideal espoused in the Serenity Prayer (The first line of which states "... grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change...").  There is also a very popular story in the back of the book "Alcoholics Anonymous" (AA's Big Book) entitled "Acceptance is the Answer" (and in the 3rd Edition it was called "Doctor, Alcoholic, Addict" but someone decided to change the name in the 4th Edition, and I'm enough of a curmudgeon to be grumbling about it still).  This story details, as all of the stories do, what it was like when the author drank and used, what happened to bring him to AA and sobriety, and what his life is like now that he's sober.  In his narrative he emphasizes strongly that when he is not "in acceptance" he is a much unhappier man.

I think that, if I can just roll up my sleeves and step into the ring with this tag-team of philosophical and spiritual combatants you've conjured up, it might be easier to say what I have come to believe they're not before I get into trying to pin a few of them to the mat regarding what they are.

I used to believe that if I accepted or tolerated something I agreed with it -- or that I had to come to like it.  I am a word nerd, and I was shocked (Shocked I tell you!  Shocked!) at how many terms I thought I was clear on but actually wasn't when I came to AA.  Sure, I could use them correctly in a sentence, but I did not have real comprehension of the term until I looked the ideas up in a dictionary and then discussed them with other sober folks-- so I applaud your email query, M!  (And these are some thoughts I've had on that whole dictionary thing.)

Here's a specific example to answer your question(s):  I enter the bank lobby, and there is a long line.  I can tolerate waiting in it, but that doesn't mean I like waiting in it.  I can accept the fact that this is how things are in the bank right now, but that doesn't mean I agree with how the bank is running their business.

Your mad suffix action, as exciting as it is, (sort of like being a syntax ninja.  Hai!) on "accept" and "tolerate" does not really change their meaning very much, for me.  All things are in some way influenced by context, so I would caution you not to hypothetical yourself into loopy circular thinking about how the meanings may vary a bit with different useages.  That way lies madness.  (Madness I tell you.  Madness!)

As for the "un" and "in" of unacceptable and intolerable ... well, those are loaded guns, for me.  Indulging myself by throwing those ideas around is like playing with matches at the gasoline pump.  All I'm doing is revving up for a good rant.  And for this alcoholic -- who always secretly longs for the Julia Sugarbaker moment in which you can give someone a spitfire, super-literate dressing down, and they just stand there and take it while the studio audience "ooohs" and then we cut to commercial -- revving up for a good rant is equal parts ego-fantasy and resentment-machine.

Finally, your pair of little triplets there, about "accepting intolerable behavior" and "tolerating unacceptable behavior" -- for me, that's just a word trick -- logically the phrases are fine, but the larger meaning is moving away from the spiritual principle behind the ideas of acceptance and tolerance.  I'm not supposed to accept or tolerate abuse -- and doing so, using the language of the Program to rationalize it, is about fear of confrontation, and has nothing to do with actual acceptance or tolerance in the spirit AA intends me to practice them (in my humble opinion).

Clearly you have an agile mind, and I salute your interest in learning more about how to better apply these ideas in your recovery.

But M, I think you think too much.  For me, when I've been able to practice sitting quietly and listening, I can hear the "still small voice" inside which is the best authority on what and when to accept and tolerate -- or when not to.

Hope some of that was helpful, and thanks for writing.

Cheers!

Mr. SP

sometimes

Sometimes being an alcoholic is like being a car
with a crazy person at the wheel.

Just a stretching exercise

A dozen or so years ago I was sponsoring a fellow who was in both Alcoholics Anonymous and Overeaters Anonymous.  He had a good amount of time in both programs (double digits in each, continuous sobriety and more-or-less continuous abstinence -- the OA equivalent of staying sober).

Naturally enough I was his AA sponsor, and as he was between OA sponsors (and had been for a bit, it turned out) he would occasionally bring up challenges he was having in his abstinence to discuss how to better apply the 12 Steps and thus remain clean with his food.  One struggle he had at the time was the issue of tolerance in OA meetings.  He'd hit a wall, and found himself impatient and judgmental with people in OA.  "Well," I said, "we know that the more we're of service, the better we ultimately feel, so if this problem is ongoing, why don't you start an OA meeting?  Founding a meeting is, in many ways, the ultimate in service."  He had enough know-how in the 12 Step world that this should not have been a terribly daunting task for him -- the only challenge he would face would be the willingness to do it.  "Uh... great idea, Mr. SponsorPants."

About this same time another sponsee of mine hit some financial difficulties, and wound up moving in with the OA/AA fellow.  Ordinarily I would never sponsor roommates (it just seems like a bad idea) but circumstances being what they were it was a handy financial solution for them both.

Unfortunately, in the kind of coincidental plot twist which would be trite if this were fiction, they each wound up being nominated for secretary of an AA meeting they were both quite fond of, and Mr. OA/AA lost to Mr. AA. 

(For the new kids, being secretary of a meeting is not actually a prestige position -- in fact, AA specifically states that our "leaders are but trusted servants, they do not govern" -- but it is also true that, human nature being what it is, and alcoholism being what it is, people sometimes tend to take the role a bit too seriously.  Yes, it is a responsibility, but it is no more -- or less -- important than any other service position in a meeting.  And no matter how you approach it, when there is an election for anything, at the end of the vote tally one person wins and the other ... doesn't win.  For some, that understandably brings up all sorts of echoes of rejections past.)

Mr. OA/AA did not take the election result very well.  And, I think it would be fair to say that Mr. AA gloated a bit as he paraded around the apartment they now shared.

A few weeks go by and in one the resentment festers and in the other the ego swells.

Sitting down with Mr. OA/AA for our weekly sponsor/sponsee time, Mr. OA/AA announces that he's started a meeting, just as I had suggested.

"Oh?" I say, "That's great.  When is it?"

He tells me when, and it is exactly the same day and time as the meeting Mr. AA is now secretary of.

"That's exactly the same day and time as the meeting Mr. AA is now secretary of."  I say, in the same tone one must use when saying, "Why look! There!  In the middle of the living room!  An elephant!"

"Yes, but my meeting is a pot luck!"  He crows.

"I'm sorry ... a what?"

"A pot luck!"  He goes on to explain that what he did was start an AA meeting in his apartment, and he made it a pot luck, so that people could bring food and he (naturally) would cook up a storm for the meeting, since it was his kitchen.  The craftier among you reading this will instantly imagine the hundred different ways one might spitefully bang around a kitchen, filling an apartment with delicious smells, etc., while one's roommate is preparing to go off and do his own service commitment.

It gets better.

"I told Mr. AA it was your suggestion, too."

"You did."  I said, thinking that it's the little stuff people kill over, not the big stuff.  Serious trouble?  People help.  Borrow the stapler off their desk without asking and it's "Mommie Dearest" screaming "Tina!  Get me the axe!"

"Okay," I say, "Seems to me that you owe Mr. AA a pretty serious amends."

"What?!?"

"Yes, because you and I both know that ..."

"You suggested I start a meeting!"

"I suggested you start an OA meeting.  You started an AA meeting which includes a meal."

He would not back down and he insisted it was merely the best time to have the meeting, and that there was no malice involved, and that all he recalled was my suggesting he start a meeting.

It was more chilling than funny, since at the time I think he absolutely, sincerely, unequivocally thought that was true.

Probably all people have the ability to talk themselves into believing the most arrant nonsense if it suits some other, usually more selfish, purpose.  But alcoholics have developed this foible to a high, fine art.  (And remember, for perspective, this man had more than ten years sober at the time...)

I try to keep this story in mind any time I've got one of those prickly little resentments going, and I've convinced myself that it's just too small a thing to bother writing about, and I'm faced with a choice in how to deal with the person I resent.

Time sober does not mean you can't easily convince yourself that reaching for the axe is merely a stretching exercise.

Gotta watch out for that.

not "optional"

Meditation is not the "optional" part of Step 11. 

Shooters -- Quick shots from Meetings

I had to face that there were some relationships my drinking had crippled, and although they might eventually mend, there would always be a limp.  My living 9th Step amends to those people is that although I can't ever make it all better, I can try (hard) never to make it any worse. 

Last Monday night

It was a cool evening and I stood at the curb in front of my apartment, enjoying the air; looking at the stars, blunted though they were by the lights of the city.

A car pulled up and idled in front of me.  The tinted glass lowered, and the driver leaned his head down to see me more clearly through the passenger side window.

"Are you Mr. SponsorPants?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Get in."  He popped the locks and leaned over to open the passenger door.

Inwardly I chuckled, thinking, "Well, I guess my days of jumping into dark cars with strange men aren't over after all."

We introduced ourselves and he merrily cursed a driver who cut him off as he merged back into traffic.  "Sorry."  He said.

"No worries.  Are you a regular at this meeting?"

"I'm the co-secretary.  J. snaked you out from under me to speak, I was going to ask you next month when it's my turn.  We just got elected a little while ago.  I heard you speak at ..."

We chatted about meetings in the area, his day, my day.  Inconsequentials.  I was actually trying to get a fix on J., his co-secretary -- so far he was just a voice on the phone asking me to speak at a meeting.  I wasn't sure if I'd met him and forgotten, or hadn't met him yet, and the way the conversation progressed when we spoke hadn't left room for me to politely sort that out.  Didn't really matter, though. 

Never say no to an AA request.

We pulled up and he pointed to the meeting door, backside of a church (aren't they always?) easily identifiable by the Usual Suspects hanging out front, smoking and drinking coffee.  I thought that, apart from the vagaries of fashion and the progression of tech accessories, the look of a bunch of drunks outside an AA meeting probably hasn't changed much since the whole thing got started.

My driver went to park, and I headed in.  Down the stairs, turn right, down the stairs, turn right, down the stairs, turn right again.  Even I couldn't fumble those instructions.

Hanging over the stairwell was a giant portrait of Jesus, somewhat arresting in both its scale and subject.  I stopped, wishing I was more familiar with my Bible passages, to deduce what scene was on display.  An ornate frame surrounded the piece, with Jesus, I must admit, classically Caucasian and clean; brown haired and blue eyed (that is, the Jesus of my childhood), standing at a wall of some kind, facing partially away from the viewer.  With one hand He held aloft a candle (or maybe it was a lantern) and with the other He reached towards a door in the wall.  Something about His stance, the way He was seen in a kind of three-quarter profile, the lighting ... it made Jesus seem ... furtive.  I thought the artist was either unconsciously revealing something secretive about his own life in this work, or had stumbled across a long lost scripture, perhaps from the gnostic Bibles, entitled "Jesus Visits The Temple of Sighs."  Probably not that last one, but my giggle echoed up the stairwell behind me. 

The thing about going to a lot of AA meetings is that you become a connoisseur of church basements and playrooms.  This one was awesome.  Clean, with colorful walls, art supplies, and even a foosball table.  Cool!  Far end of the room, the chalkboard bore, in child's hand, the following declaration:

Good News!
We love God!
And our Church!
And Spiderman!

I didn't know this Parish, but I liked 'em already:  Sneaky Jesus, arts and crafts, foosball and Marvel comics.  Our Lady of the Not Too Uptight.

The meeting itself was a really mixed bag (my favorite kind), a true example of the Big Book's often quoted line, "we are people that would not ordinarily mix."

I spoke for half an hour.  It was what it was.  I never know what I'm going to say before I speak, and at this point I'm not too worried about how it's received (though there was a time when I lived and died over that.)  Along the way I've spoken at meetings behind bars and meetings IN bars, giant and tiny, rowdy and tame.  My job is to tell my truth and try to carry the message and to smash through the ego fears and vanity that inevitably rears its head.

Afterwords, on the ride home, my driver asked me to clarify something I had spoken about, and (somewhat alarmingly I must confess) abruptly pulled over and turned off the car.  Truthfully, I was kind of beat, and looking forward to getting home, but I composed myself and we sat quietly for a bit.  Might have been a minute, might have been five.  I already understood that this was the reason I was here tonight.  Not the meeting, not the speaking.  Whatever this man was going to say in the quiet of his car, traffic whizzing by us a few feet away.

Staring straight ahead, he told me a secret.

I shared my experience.

We said a prayer.

I observed that there was a time in both our lives that the idea of saying a prayer with an almost-stranger in a parked car of a Monday night was ... unlikely.  He ruefully agreed.

We finished the drive in companionable silence for the most part, and after we said our goodbyes and he pulled away, I thought about his courage, and his willingness to go to any lengths to stay sober, and I was pretty much awash in gratitude to have been allowed to witness it.

So I guess tonight this is just a declaration, scrawled in my own childish hand, that I love God, and AA ... but while Spiderman is cool, I'm really more of a Batman guy.

If you have a secret, and you are carrying it with you in sobriety, I can assure you from personal experience, both in my own recovery and as a witness to others, that the pain of carrying it is far greater than the pain of sharing it.

And if you do not eventually let it go it will kill you.

Courage.

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

As people get more afraid, they become more hostile.  Often I may be able to help in some small way -- which is what AA would have me do, if possible -- but sometimes all that can be done is to get out of the way as best I can -- especially since whatever they're being hostile about may have no obvious relation to whatever it is they're afraid of, so my attempt at helping may be misunderstood.  It is a great reminder that the "corrosive thread" of fear is a form of spiritual sickness which can run through anyone -- in fact, the more hostile someone is, I can deduce the more frightened they likely are -- and thus find compassion for them in their spiritual sickness, even if while in it they lash out at me.  This is part of the key, described in the 4th Step in the Big Book, to becoming free from resentment in an often difficult and confrontational world.  Elegant in theory, but not always easy in practice.
 

At the same time, bad manners are not a form of spiritual sickness -- they're just bad manners.  Addressing that fact directly may be the healthiest thing for all concerned.

Be careful with the above -- it is easy to slide from "addressing" to "going to teach them a lesson" -- the former is quite possibly healthy for your self esteem, but the latter is most likely detrimental to your serenity.  Standing up for yourself does not require you to come out swinging.  Usually.