Mr. SponsorPants

this entire site turns my stomach

 

 

An anonymous comment, dated February 15th, on my posting "Is AA A Cult?" has given me food for thought for the past week or so since I read it.

Here it is, copy/pasted in its entirety:

 

Whatever happened to the Traditions, Mr. Sponsorpants? Eleven protects us all, and Twelve states that anonymity is the, "spiritual foundation." Those words are not chosen lightly. This entire site turns my stomach and gives me the hee-bee-geebies. Thank Heaven this fellowship is self-correcting, but I have to shake my head at this entire endeavour of YOURS, MR. SPONSORPANTS. People might start to think you speak for the Program. uh.... Please, pray on it, and consider taking it down, and keep it in the rooms. "What you hear here and whom you see here, let it stay here when you leave here!!!" I sincerely feel this site violates the spirit of our sacred fellowship.

 

I've had enough turmoil lately -- and enough fatigue from working some crazy-ass long hours at work now -- that I needed to really take some time before I spoke to this comment -- but I knew I would, since it raises a larger and important question about sobriety, anonymity and the internet.

In thinking about this, and the blog in general (as I close in on almost three years of regular blogging on AA and sobriety), I can see where someone might be very troubled by what I've done here.  (And I am going to limit this to what I've done -- what others have, are, or will do is not something I have control over.  AA has taught me to try to take responsibility for my side of the street, and although I do it imperfectly, I can say that I do consistently try to do it.)

Out of a combination of laziness and a desire not to be repetitive I do not always state, with every entry in which I discuss other AA's in any way -- or anyone else, for that matter -- that, to preserve anonymity, while everything I write here is, to the best of my ability, 100% true, it is not 100% factual.

That is, I work hard to be true to the spirit of a conversation or an exchange or a person or a share or whatever, without giving identifying facts which would break anonymity.  I know I've mentioned before that, to my credit (and the occasional sponsee's chagrin) I have an excellent auditory memory -- that is, I remember what I hear very well.  Thus when I talk about conversations, etc., I believe I am telling the truth -- my quotes are fairly accurate, given a margin for human error.  I may not get something word-pefect, but I fairly provide context and capture meaning.

But what I write about others is purposely, to preserve anonymity, not factual.  That is, if I say I had a conversation with someone (a sponsee, a friend, a co-worker) it might actually (for example) have been two people, blended into one, to convey a point or paint a picture.  Or specific descriptives about someone are not at all factual, but are in fact altered to keep the person anonymous -- though I still try to convey to the reader the sense of a person or situation's dynamic.  (A crude example of that -- and one I've not used in any story which is why I use it here -- is that I might describe someone who had terrible, terrifying table manners as a person who spoke too loudly, and spit a bit when they spoke, over dinner -- you get the sense of a potentially uncomfortable social dynamic over a meal, but the facts have been changed to preserve anonymity.)  I always in some way blur or omit gender, age, time sober, location, etc. (at the cost of some clumsy syntax, but that's the price required to do that.)

If that hasn't been said as often as it should, or been made clear when I've tried to address it, I'll link this entry to the "Who Are You, Mr. SponsorPants?" heading on the right of the site, and hopefully that will feature the information more prominently for anyone who has questions or concerns.  I think it a reasonable assumption that a blog reader, if curious about authorship and/or content, clicks around a little bit. 

As for people thinking I speak for AA, I feel like my conscience is pretty clear on that front.  I've repeated the fact that I do not -- and that in fact no one does -- speak for AA in any way, shape or form on any entry where it is germane to the point(s) being made.

The whole Mr. SponsorPants blog started as an act of service born of my sincere prayer for help.  (And one is always in danger, when thinking that they're acting on an answer to a prayer, of being at the least foolish and at the most dangerous, I think that's important to acknowledge too.)  As with any act of service I have done in sobriety, my ego has occasionally wormed its way in.  At the same time, God gave us gifts to use, and if we're using them in a sincere effort to be of service then using them -- and enjoying using them -- is the right thing to be doing (the "proper use of the will" as the book "Alcoholics Anonymous" says). 

My first sponsor had a beautiful singing voice.  He was, in fact, a professional singer.  Early in my sobriety I told him I was worried that I was "performing" when I shared.  That I was "trying" to be funny.  He asked me if I thought of things to say before I shared, and I truthfully answered 'not very much.'  He asked me if I was trying to be funny on purpose, or it sometimes just came out that way, but I was also just trying to be honest.  I said, again truthfully, that I wasn't entirely sure, but it mostly just came out that way.  Then he asked me if he should purposely sing off-key when we sang "Happy Birthday" to someone taking a cake for a sober anniversary.  Caught off guard by the question I'm sure I said something like 'of course not!'  He said that if he was trying to sing louder than everyone to show off, then that was ego, but if he was singing loudly to help the group's song then that was service -- that he was using the gifts God gave him in service to the meeting.  He put it better than I am now, but the spirit of that idea has always helped me in sorting out using our abilities for service or for ego.  I crack wise when I write to entertain myself more than anything else (also it's just the way my mind works) -- and sometimes it helps people take information in -- or just brighten a day, for God's sake.  (And if I'm occasionally taken too literally rather than in the spirit of fun which is intended... well, half on me for not being clear, and half on the literal taker for having a stick up their ass losing their sense of fun.)  So although sometimes my ego has stepped in, on the whole I think "the spirit of our sacred fellowship" is as much about service and carrying the message as it is anything else.

And while I do not advocate in any way a change to the Traditions or the customs and principles which the fellowship of AA has developed over time and which serve us so well, in the 21st Century how people find and take in information has most definitely changed.

As I understand my AA history (and I have absolutely no doubt that someone will gently correct me if I am mistaken on this) the motivation for writing the book "Alcoholics Anonymous" was two-fold:  First, to accurately record and present AA's 12 suggested Steps and plan for recovery to anyone who might need it, and second, to reach people who might not find their way into an AA meeting -- either from not having one near them or from a fear of being seen at one or whatever.  Also, the personal stories in the back of the Big Book (AA's nickname for the book "Alcoholics Anonymous") were so that people could "hear" other people talk about their alcoholism and recovery and possibly identify. 

I think virtually any writing about AA and sobriety on the internet has the opportunity to do those same things: Accurately quote and present AA's plan for recovery, and share personal experiences about drinking, practicing AA's principles, and living sober, for others to identify with.  (And as anyone with some sober miles under their belt will tell you, the need to identify with other sober AA's -- and be comforted and inspired by them -- does not vanish over time.)

So hopefully this blog can be a part of that larger purpose.  While I want to take personal responsibility for anything here that is problematic regarding AA's traditions, etc., I also want to laud the great extended spiritual family of recovering bloggers -- in every 12 Step fellowship -- who share their experience and wisdom in this fashion -- whether it's every day or only occasionally.  If someone Googles anything 12 Step related they will find a lot of help out there now -- and that's a moving and wonderful thing.

Again I am certain that someone will be glad to correct me if I am greatly mistaken, but I think that carrying the Traditions forward and applying their spirit to a new and ever-changing world of how people find and take in information is not the same thing as violating them.

 

_____________________________________________

 

Hopefully this post has been more demonstrative than defensive -- I gave the comment, the questions it raised for me, and this writing a lot of thought before I brought it to the table.

well THIS was a new one...

I don't even know how to categorize this entry -- and my usual strictures about blurring details around peoples' anonymity are going to have to bend a little via the circumstances and trying to relate things clearly -- but then, the key players in this story with me aren't in AA, so the ethics aren't exactly the same, either.

First, a bit of background.  This guy is not just one of my downstairs neighbors, he is also my Landlady's ex-son-in-law.  (And here's how that story turned out, by the way.)

When I say "ex" son-in-law I do not believe there is any animosity between them at all.  My landlady seems to be a woman who prefers weddings to marriages (and maybe that's a good strategy for moving through life; she's always seemed happy and successful to me) -- but that has not colored their rapport one way or the other, as far as I've ever seen.

I live in a small building (which I love).  Less than half a dozen units total.  Two stories, some units up, some units down.  I'm on the up, so anyone coming to see me (or my neighbor next to me) walks more-or-less past the down folks to get to the stairs.  Not right through their living rooms of course, but as I say, it's a cozy layout.

I've rented from this gal for years, and while I am not privy to her personal finances, I understand she has a couple of different places with tenants on them -- though by no means is she in possession of vast swaths of urban real estate with a dozen or so properties put to various purpose.  All of which is to say she is not new to being a landlady nor are we new to each other.  She does not live on the property, but a few "towns" down the line -- an hour or three travel time, depending on the vagaries of traffic.

In an ironic twist, all of my neighbors -- save my landlady's ex-son-in-law below me (and his then fiance now wife) -- are sober members of Alcoholics Anonymous.  So when the call from my landlady came in, and what it was about became clear... well, although she was scrupulous in not naming anyone as a "source,"  I didn't exactly have to get the Clue set out to guess that it was most likely Professor Plum in the basement with a bottle.  But of course Ms. Landlady and Professor Plum don't know that everyone else in this cozy building is AA too.  (Is it just me, or does life come about a hair's breadth from farce at times?  I suppose in this case it would be a classic French Farce, with all of us running in and out of doors and up and down stairs, accusations and mistaken identities everywhere...)

Okay, I think the stage is set, you have the pertinent information... oh, one more thing:  I sat down to write this about five minutes after hanging up the phone -- the posting time is set so that it goes up on the blog "tomorrow" (today, as you read it) but this writing is close to the event, so my adrenaline is up a little, I freely admit.  But then also my memory is pretty fresh.  (And I have, as many sponsees have discovered to either their delight or chagrin, an excellent auditory memory.  I remember pretty well what I hear.  Still, I know no one is infallible -- I've always maintained that the conversations I write about here grasp the spirit of an exchange, but that it is not quite verbatim.)

Okay, now we're set.

Action:

ring

ring

ring

All things considered it's also a touch ironic that I had an AA friend over when the phone rang, so the call went into voicemail.  After they left, I listened to the message.

"Hi Mr. SponsorPants, this is Ms. Landlady calling."  Her usual friendly, breezy professional tone.  "Give me a call when you get the chance."

I had to think for a minute.  I paid the rent, right?  Yeah, yeah, of course I did.  Okay, let's give her a call.

ring

ring

"Hello!" she positively trilled into the receiver.

"Hello Ms. Landlady.  How are you?"

"Fine, fine..." 

We talked about the weather, for a bit, very friendly and chit-chatty, which is the history of our relationship.  I usually include a little note in with my rent check to her, kind of a "Hey there, hope you're having a nice blah-blah..." 

"So listen, Mr. SponsorPants," she began, changing gears, "I know in your work you help people get sober."  I had no idea she knew I was sober.  It's not my work, of course, but I don't expect people not in AA to be fully clear on the concepts or the language.  I immediately assumed that at some point she learned this from ex-son-in-law (referenced and linked above), as my sober neighbors, whom I know well, would not break my anonymity.  "I have a [family relation] who is an alcoholic" she went on (but she is not talking about ex-son-in-law, to be clear here).

Oh, I guess I know where this is going.  I think to myself.

She talks very briefly about how hard it is for people to get sober, and how her family relation isn't/hasn't etc.

"And I know you work with a lot of people."  She said.

"Well..." I was disgustingly humble in tone.

"And you know, sometimes people who want to get sober don't.  Or might not be what they say they are.  With all the people you have coming and going, I just wanted to know if, perhaps, you could meet with them somewhere else, say... maybe the park, or Starbucks or something?"

Huh?

"Excuse me... but ... what?"

Still in the same reasonable tone, she went on, "You know, as a landlord I have a liability issue, and, there are concerns ... people coming and going ... they might not be sober..."

I let her talk.  Let her get it all out, a quasi-rational sounding, yet very strange, list of concerns with no basis in legality -- or any of her damn business, for that matter.  The list of her issues included all kinds of vague things about people coming and going, other people not being as careful of the building so that things might not be safe, other people themselves not feeling safe, people not being who they say they are, her concerns as a landlady (whatever the hell that meant given how long I've lived here without a single issue or problem)  -- please understand she was completely friendly and rational in tone.  There was no hysteria or edge to the way she was speaking, which made what she was saying all the more surreal.  I didn't interrupt or argue.  Thank you thank you AA for that sometimes life-saving skill.

Deep breath.  Keep it together, Mr. SP.

"Well, Ms. Landlady, I want to be both a good neighbor and a good tenant, I think you know that.  And, yes, I do have people over for coffee and to talk quite regularly.  I'm a sober member of Alcoholics Anonymous, and I have been for more than 20 years."

Damn.  Now I'd done it.  I brought up AA.  I broke my anonymity.  Here's the deal, kids:  People knowing you don't drink is not breaking your anonymity, regardless of what they may assume.  Saying you're in AA is breaking your anonymity.  And now that I had, I needed to remember that I was an example -- maybe the only example she'd ever see -- of the Big Book and AA.  As my dead sponsor, the late great John S. used to say (he who's wise counsel I miss every day) "If you break your anonymity you can't be an asshole, you have to be an example."  He would go on at some length, in fact, but that was the heart of it.

I took a deep breath and continued.  "First,  I am not in the habit of having people in my home that I do not know well enough to feel comfortable inviting over." 

Not that it's any of your damn business one way or the other, I thought.  Deep breath, Mr. SP.

"They are friends or people I know through the program of AA -- or they are dates.  I have dates over too, on occasion.  You rented to a single man in the big city, Ms. L.  We're both grownups, I'm sure you understand that too."  We both laughed our phony, worldly laughs for a moment.

This was, I am ashamed to admit, a spur-of-the-moment bit of psychological warfare, to perhaps throw her off balance.  But it's also the truth, and that's pretty much the coin I trade in (truth, not dates).  I was working to not feel angry or threatened, and if that particular bit of truth made her a little uncomfortable and off balance, I was okay with that.  Wrong?  I dunno, but it's what I did -- I was thinking on my feet and working to stay honest and calm.  Every time I could feel my voice start to press or go up I would pull it back.

I went on.  "I appreciate that you called me directly with your concerns.  Was there an incident or did something specific happen..."

I knew that there hadn't been.  No wet drunks have shown up on my doorstep in years -- when you're drinking the last place you want to go is to some AA's house, that's for damn sure.  And my dates are hardly the kind to cause comment, I assure you.  Unless your comment would be along the lines of "Huh, Mr. SponsorPants certainly has some varied tastes and some good luck on occasion... "  But I'm the kind of neighbor that worries if my music is too loud when you can't even hear it from one room to the next -- when I have the occasional date over no one is yodeling, doing exotic animal impersonations ("Okay, now do the Marmoset!  Oh!  Oh yes!  Marmoset meeee!") or banging on the walls shouting a military cadence.  Though sometimes I miss those years ...

She answered "No, no, no specific incident."

"Has there been an issue with noise, or property?  Has anyone had a bad exchange with someone I'm not aware of, or has there been anything at all ... missing mail?  Bent window screens?  Blocked cars?  Anything?"  I was getting a little angry, but I sounded very, very calm.  There are some people I've worked with in the past who might have heard me and thought 'uh oh' but I think it's fair to say there was no tone or bite in any of my questions, and my volume was completely normal.

"No.  No there hasn't been."  She was calm too.

I took another deep breath.  "Okay.  Well, then, just off the top of my head, I have to say that while I am committed to being a good neighbor and a good tenant, I'm sorry, but, I'm not willing to, in essence, not have my own friends in my own home..."  I admit that that last was delivered with emphasis, as the nature of her call really kind of washed over me while I was saying it.  Another deep breath I was able to finish with "... but if there's ever anything I can do to be of help to you or your family relation on this topic -- get you some literature, or help in any way, I am really happy to, I hope you know I mean that."

And sonuvabitch, I realized I did mean it.  Man, you simmer in this spiritual stuff long enough you can find that the willingness to be of service will run like a shining thread through the most unreal or unsettling situations.

"Oh. Well.  Yes.  Yes, I do.  Thank you." She replied, and seemed genuinely touched by that.

We got off the phone, I paced and breathed a little then called my sponsor and told him the whole long story.

"Well," he said, "you handled it better than I would have.  I'd have hung up on her."  He is a famous curmudgeon.  Have I mentioned that lately?

"But ... but I broke my anonymity!  I can't be an asshole if I do that.  I mean, I don't have to be a doormat, that's for sure, but I need to try and be the best example of ..."

He cut me off with a  "Hrmph"  -- he has a really expressive 'hrmph' -- "Well, you handled it perfectly.  Better than I would have anyway."

We talked a bit more, and the call ended with a promise to have coffee again soon.

I made a cup of tea and ... as I bobbled the bag up and down in the cup, Dark SponsorPants started his plotting:

Next time someone comes over, I'm going to hang over the stair railing and shout 'Now Serving Number 32!  Are you number 32?  Get up here!'  No! I know, I'll start to wear wigs and smear my face with make-up and roll around on the ground in front of their front door screaming and sobbing like Ann Margaret in the chocolate scene in "Tommy!"  No!  I know!  I'll tell all my sponsees to dress like we're in a coven and we'll wear black robes and hold hands and chant at the next full moon and then bang on their door and bellow 'We require a sacrifice!'... No! I'll collect empty beer cans and bottles from all over the neighborhood out of the recycle bins, and late at night I'll silently build a wall of them all in front of their front door so when they open it to leave in the morning... No!  I know!  I'll go to the Dollar Store and buy a dozen of those knock-off Barbie Dolls and use a lighter to melt all the doll heads to the windshield of their car as if it's some kind of gypsy curse -- it will be like the Triple Word Score of Retribution:  Upsetting, Inconvenient and Thrifty!  No!  I'll...

No.

Once Dark SponsorPants had his moment to spew -- the retaliatory fantasy is pretty normal and, admittedly, can be both fun and entertaining -- I pulled off his mask, revealing with no surprise at all my Fear, sitting on the shoulders of my Ego, sitting on the shoulders of my Alcoholism, like Huey, Dewey and Louie under a bed sheet, pretending to be a ghost to try and scare their Uncle Donald.

You know what I need to do?

I need to remember that things happen for a reason.  Now Ms. Landlady and I have had a conversation which included AA, and maybe I will be helpful to her or her family relation some day.  And also, she might be over-reacting from a stray comment someone made -- my neighbors might not have said anything at all to her, specific to me.  Certainly if her family relation is a real alcoholic, her impression of drunks is that we are thieving liars -- and when drinking that is an impression we richly deserve (in my own family there's not a drinking drunk that hasn't well earned that rep -- your's truly most of all...)  The point is to tell my alcoholism to shut the hell up, and to remind my ego and my fear that even though the call was to me, in the cosmic Big Picture it's really not about me.  My job is to do what I did:  Tell the truth and offer to help. 

Beyond that, you know what else I need to do?

Nothing.  Everything's fine.

It's a beautiful day, and I handled a situation which once might have baffled me with Grace -- which is what being sober is all about. 

And if I hadn't been able to do that, I have the tools to make it right after the fact, and that's what being sober is all about, too.

Got to admit though, a phone call from a landlady out of the blue asking you not to meet with your sponsees in your own place?  That's a new one on me.

celebrity sobriety and rehab -- redux

Several emails touching on the most recent round of news reports on the celebrity beat -- from jail sentences to vehicular manslaughter charges -- all of which seem to be, to varying degrees, alcohol and drug related.  I will say here what I have often said when the topic comes up over coffee:  It was hard enough for me to get sober period -- I can't imagine trying to do it under the hot and unforgiving glare of media and internet scrutiny -- what a circus of sabotage that would be.  Some might argue that "they asked for it," either by a choice of profession in the spotlight, or through foolish mistakes made in very public ways.  I guess that's true, but I've asked for a lot of stupid things in my time, and I'm grateful that I didn't get them to the degree I might have -- let alone with the world watching -- so I just don't feel comfortable judging those that have and did.

It can be a strange thing to sit in an AA meeting with someone famous in the room -- I will admit that.  It has happened to me a number of times in the course of my sober adventures.  If they are a 'regular' attendee of the meeting, they rapidly just become a part of the group -- AA is nothing if not well practiced in assimilating very different people into a cohesive and loving whole.  If they're not one of the regulars then it can make for some surreal moments, but the overwhelming majority of the time I have seen the meeting go on without too much drama -- people behave and anonymity is respected.  Breeches in this certainly happen, but in my experience far less than one might think.  Most everyone in the room understands that, for the space and time of the meeting, we are all just a group of people with the same disease trying to live in our common solution.

A few of the emails I received asked some specific questions, and I started several different responses -- none of them satisfactory to me, because the truth is, I think what I wrote here before is my best comment on it.

So, with some few additions and alterations, here is "celebrity sobriety and rehab" -- redux:

My alcoholism makes me believe that people are thinking about me... talking about me.

How much harder must it be, when reality and alcoholism blend together, and sometimes a lot of people actually are talking about you.  A very famous person sitting in an AA meeting has a somewhat different experience of anonymity and the 12 Step environment than the rest of us -- especially when there are photographers literally outside the door of the meeting, waiting to take a picture as they leave --  I've seen it first hand.

My heart goes out to the many foolish and damaged personalities who must play out their addiction and recovery before the cameras, and in the cruel kangaroo court of the internet.

I think secretly many of us believe that, should we be given some of the material success and acclaim that these public train wrecks have received (and more often than not earned, we should probably remember), we might do a bit better.

Perhaps so.  I think in my own case, if, as a young alcoholic I was surrounded by people who always told me yes, and I was made to feel extra important, and given license to spend without restraint, I would have become first a monster, then a joke, and finally a statistic.

(In fact I have often thought, sitting in meetings and hearing people share, that I am very grateful I got sober before everyone had a phone with a camera in it, and with the touch of a few buttons my pathetic, revolting blackout behavior could be uploaded for the world to see, making me an overnight global YouTube punchline.)

The press reports, with varying degrees of slant, when someone famous "goes to rehab."

Rehab is not Alcoholics Anonymous.  (Nor is it any other 12 Step Program.)

Rehab is, to varying degrees a hospital setting, where salaried individuals work to help addicts get initially clean from "what ails 'em."  I'm grateful for the rehab industry -- the book "Alcoholics Anonymous" (AA's Big Book) suggests that "we favor hospitalization for the man who is jittery and befogged."  (And please, can I someday be in a hospital with the words "Jittery and Befogged" written across my chart?)

What rehab does is medically supervise a detox, and begin to begin to help lay a foundation for some ongoing after-care -- whether that model is 12 Step based or not.  Generally most folks agree, a stay in a rehab with no follow up is not a good way to go.

I once knew a gentleman who sent his wife to rehab for 30 days.  When the Mrs. showed up at the front door on day 31 she was drunk, having started right in again on the flight home.  (Atta girl!  You are my kind of drinker.)  He called the rehab and demanded his money back.  You can imagine how that went, but I always admired his spunk.  It served him well later, when drunk she fell down the basement stairs and struck her head so hard it resulted in ... a sad ending to her story.

Rehab is not AA.

But tonight, reflecting on how many people I know who have relapsed over the years, I welcome anything -- anything -- that helps people get and stay sober.

And as for the famous and infamous, I imagine some of them are using rehab as a dodge -- the cynical assume so.  But I've seen enough people come to AA on a court card and though judgmental and insincere at the outset, discover something they identified with and that eventually actually helped them.  Hopefully for anyone "performing" their rehab for an audience at large (and I am genuinely not inferring anything about anyone), clearly somewhere along the way they got off track, and though their original motives may be mixed, perhaps they too will discover something in recovery which helps them.

For those of us already in the lifeboat, the challenge becomes not buying into the cynical interpretation of this -- but just to stay ready to offer anyone who comes to AA our open minds, hands and hearts, without judgment or agenda.

Even if you didn't much care for their last performance.

Questions via Email: Prayer Partners?

Dear Mr. SponsorPants,

I have a question about Prayer Partners.  I'm a newcomer to Al-anon and my sponsor has had many suggestions for me in the last few months, but none has been so difficult for me as their most recent suggestion:  That I get a Prayer Partner.  My sponsor defines this as another person in the program with whom I would speak by phone every morning without fail; we would pray aloud together, saying the Serenity Prayer and the Third and Seventh Step Prayers, and maybe sharing whatever spiritual concern/process we want to share.

I know this is not strictly speaking an AA question, but I thought I would ask you since all of my sponsor's other suggestions have been ones that I know come from the Big Book or from AA collected experience in general.  (Make a gratitude list every night, kneel to pray morning and night, have a home group, read conference approved literature, do stepwork, have a service commitment, attend open AA meetings, etc.)  But this one is new to me, and I can't figure out if it's a common thing and I've just never heard of it, or what.  I've Googled this and I don't get anything even remotely conference-approved, just Christian references.  And I am not a Christian, although my sponsor is, which is at times unsettling, although I try not to let it be.

I'm officially no longer in the business of interrogating her suggestions or coming up with better ones of my own;  I just take them, and suck it up, and see what happens next (usually more is revealed).  I still wondered nonetheless  if you had heard of this before.

Thanks for your experience, strength and hope, and keep coming back!

Yours,

New to Al-anon

Dear New,

Wow ... I ... I would have the same reaction you've described yourself as having. 

I always do best when, as you mentioned, I stop questioning a sponsor's direction and just try it for a while and see what happens.  (I believe that is called "being open minded and willing," actually.)  You and I are totally on the same page with that.

It's just that... well ... the phrase "Prayer Partner" makes me throw up a little bit in the back of my throat.

I know!  I know!  I'm a terrible, close-minded person.  <hangs head in shame>

But the phrase is very Evangelical.  Actually, more to the point, the phrase is very Tele-evangelical.

Alcoholics Anonymous as a whole has no opinion on outside issues.  Love and tolerance is our code.  People of all and every and no faith can find a solution to their drinking problem in AA, and nothing that the book "Alcoholics Anonymous" suggests will be contrary to their particular creed.

I, a sober member of AA, have certain ideas associated with certain religions that make it difficult for me to be unbiased or as open minded as I like to be.  I am not a spokesman for AA.  No person is.  The only authority on Alcoholics Anonymous is the book "Alcoholics Anonymous."  (Clever title, eh?)

While I mean no offense to anyone reading this, some religions scare trouble me.  Some religions have gone on the record -- quite vehemently -- in ways that make me feel threatened unwelcome, despite their claims of following spiritual teachings based on the concepts of Love.  (I feel like some sects can't even make it to "Like thy neighbor as thyself" let alone Love.)  So when someone in AA references anything that I identify with those religions it can be a challenge for me not to denounce judge, or react in fear, or become irrationally protective of what I think AA is and isn't.  (The middle of that path is where I aim for -- it is appropriate to safeguard the Traditions and speak up for AA's singleness of purpose -- but too far to one side or the other on that road and I fear it's Bleeding Deacon territory.)

It is always a rude awakening, when I consider how groups that I fear view me I call it intolerance, but when I think about how I view them I call it intelligence.  Neat trick, huh?  To be fair, it's not all in my head.  There are some parts of the world where I wouldn't get two blocks without being stoned to death.  (What is with those municipalities, where there are always a lot of stones lying around for a stoning?)  And there are some factions and zip codes here in the U.S. that might not stone me, but might not welcome me, either.

That's a big part of why the spirit of anonymity is so important in meetings.  Not to hide from each other, but to create a level playing field in which we can meet (to the best of our abilities) as recovering alcoholics first, and whatever else we are second.  Every other part of how we identify ourselves, the status, the divisions, the bias and assumptions about people and affiliations, can be, if not left outside, certainly kept out of the way to better practice the 12th Step with each other.

But the phrase "Prayer Partner" is, as I am familiar with it, what some Televangelists called the people who were encouraged to put one hand on the TV and pray, and the other hand on their checkbook and donate.  Thus, it is hard for me at first to consider the suggestion without a lot of baggage attached to it.

To answer your question directly, no, this is not a suggestion I have heard of in my sober adventures in AA -- but I have also encountered a great variance by region as to what the fellowship suggests people try as an adjunct to getting and staying sober.

At the same time, when I take a sponsee through the Steps of AA in the Big Book and we come to the 3rd Step, as awkward as it occasionally feels we kneel down and say the prayer together out loud -- and though there may be some initial oddness, doing so often becomes something sublime.  So I do, in my own way, regularly pray aloud with people. 

Still... morning telephone "Prayer Partner" ... that's a tough one for me, I freely admit.

I must check my ego and my intellectual arrogance in this as well.  If what your sponsor was suggesting was called "Morning Spiritual Fellowship" I would not have the same kind of reaction at all.  (Though I would likely not say on a first date, "What did I do this morning?  Well, after a kickass telephone prayer session with my Morning Spiritual Fellowship Partner I ... hey, wait!  Where are you going?")

As a sponsor I bring all of me to the table in an effort to help the people I sponsor.  I tend to label my suggestions as things I've personally done and things I've seen work for others, and also those things that come from AA vs. those that don't but have been helpful to my sobriety.

Sounds like your sponsor is doing the same thing, and you have a pretty open mind about it.

If it's right for you give it a go, and let me know what your experience of it is like.

Thanks for writing in and keep coming back!

Cheers!

Mr. SP

Questions via Email: Introspective vs. Laying Judgment -- Or, a bit about the blog, anonymity, and a sincere attempt address some thought provoking comments.

Hey Mr. SponsorPants,

I like your blog.  I have read it almost in its entirety.  I also like Agent Orange and the Orange Papers.  I can find myself agreeing, relating to many aspects of the subjects found about alcoholism and AA in either site. What I did find was that as your blog matured, it became more judgmental, as if you had lost the connection with your own experience of alcoholism.  I also questioned your ability to protect anonymity.  I would not want to sit at a table with you.  "You might want to think about that." There are portions of your blog that are about your own problem, which you are free to share, and there is some good information and insight there.  The later stuff seems to be sensational, gossipy, I got a good story for you....guess what, I have been sitting around tables and I have a million good stories too. Start thinking like a priest in a confessional, because that's how most people offer their stuff up....with trust. I think you would do kindness to the program to limit your information sharing to that which reflects to your experience and not to others.  Tell your story....don't sell out the privacy of the table.  AA table is not a locker room.  "You might want to think about that." 

K.

 

Hey K,

First off, sorry about how the copy/paste kind of mooshed your formatting together.  TypePad doesn't seem to like it when I try to copy/paste either directly from an email or if I use Word as an intermediate step.

You bring up some good, tough points.

My greatest fear as I respond is that I will become defensive.

No, wait, actually, my greatest fear is that I will sound defensive.  I have struggled my whole life with worrying to some degree or another what others think, and it is a victory that I mostly keep that concern right-sized, and can name it when it happens.  Many people struggle with ego, alcoholics seem to do so intensely.

I confess, K, to being a little dazzled that you have read my blog almost in its entirety -- it gives you a unique perspective to comment on how it may have changed over time, and I want to address that in a bit, but first I think I should clear up a few things about the anonymity issue.

As you may recall, when I first started telling stories that involved others I would often include a little introduction that explained how details were altered or fudged to protect people's anonymity.  I stopped with those little intros, partly because I assumed it would be boring to read over and over, and partly because it was boring to write over and over.

The best way I can explain how I handle some of my story telling is that everything I write is truthful, but it is not factual.  I combine people (for example, if there were three people in a conversation I might combine the other two into one person, both for clarity of the point I'm trying to make and again, I'm lazy), I change identifiers, fuzz details, names and locales (in emails too), I often avoid naming genders -- I even switch what we might be doing -- having coffee instead of frozen yogurt, for example -- so that anyone  who saw us talking and yogurting and then (by some unbelievable long shot) went on to read my blog entry and then also knew my "secret identity" wouldn't be able to put it all together and divine whatever we had been discussing.

I take the anonymity piece very seriously, (too much so, I've been told).  I confess that as I have continued in writing this over the past year-and-a-half or so , an ever-widening circle of people in my life do now know my online alter-ego.  Ironically, and not surprisingly, considering most of the people I know are alcoholic, the reactions I've gotten have not been "Why am I in your blog?" but much, much more often "Why aren't I in your blog?"  When I fear something might be sensitive I ask the person if they mind if I include it in the blog, but again, I don't always indicate that in my writing -- a failing, it seems, if it has given anyone pause in the Trust Department.

No one can remember conversations with exact recall -- though I do have a pretty good auditory memory -- that is, I remember what people say quite well (much to many a sponsee's chagrin, I might add).  And again I used to write little disclaimers at the beginning of such posts, but that too seemed like overkill after a while.  I work like hell to recall the spirit of an exchange to the best of my ability, while fully acknowledging there is no way I could recall it with either absolute accuracy or a complete lack of bias.  Your email prompts me to include something on the side of the blog, like a category, which could remain and address these things so that no one reading what I write would have questions about this.

Over time the blog has changed.  At the risk of sounding ooky-spooky (or worse, pretentious and self-deluded) each entry is more-or-less fresh baked.  I sit down, ask HP for some inspiration, and let 'er rip.  Many times I've been surprised at the result.  Of course sometimes I have an experience which happened that day that I'm going to address, but often I start with not a lot of thought as to what will come out.  Consequently I'm a mad hodgepodge of stories, plays, analogies, rants, prayers ... some of which I am proud of, others I must shrug and remind myself that it's not for me to question very often, it's about leaning into the process, and having some Faith that someone, somewhere, might find just what they needed that day -- even if it is in the form of my being a horrible mess rather than a shining example.

Now, as to being judgmental...

Man, that's a tough one for me -- and I don't mean that refraining from judgment is that tough all the time -- I truly do see "bad" behavior as a form of spiritual sickness which isn't about me (unless it's mine, that is).

I suppose it has to do with what one's working definition of the concept is.  So often I find people saying "judgment" when they seem to mean, from a contextual standpoint, "not very nice" or "disagreeing."

To be specific, for example, I believe that if you're a real addict, and you come to the 12 Step world and you get your life back, and then you go off and have your great life and you don't put some time in staying in those same rooms that saved your life and passing along what was given to you, that that is a fundamentally selfish thing.  I name that as selfish.  Is that judgmental?  I suppose it very well could be.  Certainly it's not very nice of me to say so -- it would be "nice" to say, instead, "Well, I guess they have a different path."  And they might, but I would be disingenuous to leave it at that.  I think it's selfish -- if the room was empty when they showed up they wouldn't have the life they're so happy with now.

Or people who sit and talk through a meeting.  I think that is selfish and self-centered, as they are more of a distraction than they often realize, not to mention someone is up there sharing, sometimes about very personal and troubling things.  That behavior -- the talking, I mean -- wouldn't be tolerated in a movie theater -- but it's judgmental to call it out in an AA meeting?  (I'm not saying that you are saying that is an example of me being judgmental, K, it's just an example that came to mind, one I feel I've written about a lot here.)

I believe God (or whatever shorthand you like) gave me an intellect to use.  AA suggests that the proper use of that intellect is in trying to be helpful to others.  Using my intellect sometimes means sorting what I think of as sick behavior from healthy behavior (or bad from good, rude from polite, whatever) -- humility comes in when I make sure I remind myself -- and choose my words with care when voicing these things -- that I could very well be 100% wrong in my assessments.  (And at the risk of sliding sideways into that defensiveness -- which I hopefully have avoided so far -- I think I've included that idea, that I may be wrong, fairly often.)

You've touched on a real fear of mine lately, K.  I fear that as I get older I'm getting grouchier, more of a curmudgeon.  Yet some days I am genuinely worn out and frustrated and frightened by alcoholism and alcoholics -- hell, there are many days I'm worn out, frustrated and frightened by humanity.  But there are many other days I feel a profound harmony in the Universe, so ... *shrug* ... no matter where I fall on the scale, I know it's the seeking, not the being, that is the real criteria.

I know my motives haven't changed in writing Mr. SponsorPants.  I still have a sincere desire to help.  But you have challenged me to consider if I've crossed any lines, and if there are better ways to talk about some of these things, and for that challenge, I thank you.

Cheers!

Mr. SP

Anonymity

Anonymity.

Why bother, right?

The paparazzi take pictures of pop stars leaving AA meetings.

Movie stars and athletes issue a press release when they enter rehab*.

Newspapers regularly report if someone famous is sentenced to AA meetings.  A recent comedian who had some trouble with liquor and the law (I love typing that phrase, it sounds like something a cowboy would say, "... trouble with liquor and the law ...") was sentenced to AA meetings on Court TV!  So why should anyone bother to maintain their anonymity? What the hell is it, and why is it even important?

Well, historically of course, when AA first started it was a safeguard against stigma.  The idea that alcoholism is a disease still has its doubters even today -- back in the mid 1930's it was practically science fiction. Alcoholism was judged as a moral issue, generally, and if you were a drunk you were 'weak,' not ill.  So it was both a protection for the membership in AA and a way for new people to feel like their 'secret shame' could stay a secret, and they could feel (somewhat) comfortable checking AA out.

But things are different today, aren't they?  Alcoholism is protected by the Americans With Disabilities Act.  AA and the 12 Steps are, if not well understood, certainly not stigmatized.  A radio campaign currently running on Clear Channel affiliates (and if someone who understands why Clear Channel doesn't qualify as a monopoly could explain it to me I would be most grateful ... but I digress) is all about being a "Rock-a-holic" and attending meetings where you identify with, "I'm so-and-so, and I'm a Rock-a-holic" and everyone responds, "Hi so-and-so."  AA has been shifted, if not into the spotlight, then certainly onto the stage.

So, what's the big deal?

(Don't you just hate cute rhetorical questions? I should cut that out, but I can't seem to gracefully transition to my next point without it. I'll try to keep that kind of thing to a minimum though.  It's a little school teacherish, and I sure as hell am not trying to be that.)

The big deal is this:

"Anonymity is the spiritual foundation for all our traditions, ever reminding us to place principles before personalities."

In an AA Meeting we are all equal. And in that equality is where the process of identification can begin -- it is just one alcoholic talking to another, and that's where the healing is transmitted.  We are alcoholics together, trying to get and/or stay sober. There are no bosses, no stars.  Human nature is of course a part of the mix. There will be popular people and those less so. Folks will flirt and bicker and argue. Tempers and jealousies alike will flare on occasion.  Some groups might seem "cliquey" and others "shallow" or "dull."  But all of that is a combination of human nature and ego and judgment operating (one man's cliquey is another man's sociable, after all).  I may feel like someone is more popular than I am, or more interesting or better liked (sob!) but all of those are just bullshit value judgments fueled by my ego and my fear.  In all the ways that truly matter in the fellowship, in other words, in the lifesaving ways, they and I are equals in a meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous.

Further, we have no spokespeople.  (Thank God. Can you imagine?)

And this is a good thing, since if some famous idiot got sober in AA and bragged about it in the press and then drank, it would send a pretty inaccurate message to other people who might need AA's help.  Or, even if they stayed sober, people who thought the famous idiot was, in fact, an idiot, would use that as a rationalization for not approaching AA to look into how it might help their own drinking problem (if they had one).

Two things:

I once had a sponsor tell me, when the topic of anonymity at work came up, that it was not breaking my anonymity to say "I don't drink." But it is breaking my anonymity to say "I'm in AA."

(At the time I was confused on that point. Well, at that stage in my life I was confused on just about every point. So much time has passed since then, and so little has changed. <sigh>).  My sponsor went on to suggest that I should be careful when I break my anonymity, since I can't "un" break it.  As he explained it, breaking my anonymity is a responsibility, since I may be the only example of the Big Book that a person sees. So, if I choose to take that responsibility on, well... then I better be ready to work really hard not to be an asshole.

And finally, so the story goes, a few years before Bill Wilson passed away he was contacted by Time Magazine to be on the cover, as the "Founder of AA."  Now, I think if you read any of the biographies about Bill, and his own writing, it would be fair to say that although he had a profound spiritual experience early on that helped him get sober, he struggled on-and-off with his ego as any man (or woman) will -- and that struggle is particularly acute for an alcoholic.  And Bill had had many, many rough years well after he got sober.  So this invitation must have been like the whole Universe coming together to say, "Good job. Well done. Thank you."  A tremendous validation.  After a life of long and difficult struggle, and no small amount of hardship ... the cover of Time Magazine! (and back in the day that was a really, really big deal.)

And yet... he declined.  Anonymity at the level of press, radio and film. (Certainly television and the Internet are implied there.  It's bullshit, hair-splitting justification to say otherwise, in my opinion.)

So Time Magazine, apparently trying to be sensitive to Bill's principles, suggested that they take a picture of the back of his head. He could both remain anonymous and still be on the cover of Time.  (Oh, man, isn't that the best? When you make the hard decision and do the right thing and then you get to do what you wanted to anyway? It's like when a friend asks you to help them move, and you say yes, and then they decide to hire movers after all. So you get to feel all noble and get points for being a good friend, but not have to carry heavy boxes up and down the stairs.  Score!)

But Bill still declined.  No one among us is any more important than any other, in Alcoholics Anonymous. In AA we are equal, through our anonymity.  If Bill Wilson could honor both the letter and the spirit of that principle in such a way, can I ever do any less? Regardless of whatever pop culture boobs and media talking heads who have five minutes to fill in their daily blather choose to do.

*And, by the way, rehab is not AA. AA is AA. Rehab may talk about recovery, and sobriety, and many of the things that AA talks about ... rehab may even take someone to AA meetings, and have people that are sober through AA themselves doing good work there as counselors and support staff ... but AA is AA. AA is bound by Traditions -- 12 of them -- and what's called a 'singleness of purpose' that keeps us from letting our own good intentions destroy us.