Mr. SponsorPants

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

Get a damn dictionary

Surrender is not acceptance.

Acceptance is not agreement.

Powerless is not helpless.

Humility is not humiliation.

Selfish is not self-seeking.

Willingness is not "want to."

Self esteem is not ego.

Guilt is not shame.

Rigorous (honesty) is not brutal (honesty).

Disciplined is not rigid.

Taking responsibility is not assigning blame.

Primary (as in primary purpose) is not solitary (as in "only" purpose).

Dry is not sober.

When I was new to Alcoholics Anonymous I thought I understood what each of the words and ideas above meant -- certainly I could use them correctly in a sentence.  I knew -- or rather, I thought I knew -- what you meant when you shared about them or I read them in the book "Alcoholics Anonymous" (AA's Big Book).  But what they really, specifically meant, and (more importantly) how they differed from what I assumed they meant, took me, in some cases, a long time to sort out.

If you're new to AA, save yourself some pain, misunderstanding and frustration.  Get a damn dictionary.

If you're not so new to AA, and you sponsor people, consider that how clearly you understand some of those words and ideas may have a direct impact on your ability to be helpful to people who struggle with sobriety so ... get a damn dictionary.

like water to a goldfish in a bowl

What if God is to you like water is to a goldfish in a bowl ... always in it and of it -- surrounded, supported and sustained by it.

So then, if God is anything like that -- anything at all -- then maybe you can stop torturing yourself with the question of what is God's Will vs. what is your will.

Because if there's no "wrong" place to be in the bowl for that goldfish (and how could there be, since there's no place in that bowl for the fish not to be in the water) then there's no place in your world you can not be in, of, surrounded, supported and sustained by God -- whatever the idea of "God" means to you. 

_________________________

Underneath the question of whether something is "God's Will" or "my will" is really an attempt to make sure I make the "right" decision -- and underneath that is not a desire to make the right decision, but the fear of what will happen if I make the wrong decision.

And isn't fear of making the wrong decision merely the fear that I'll not get what I think I want?  Isn't it just the fear that if, in the Cosmic Game Show of life, I "guess wrong" then my path will be hard not easy, full of lack rather than abundance, and I will discover that, spiritually speaking, I took a wrong turn, and thus, wound up in the wrong place?

But if I am maybe like the goldfish, then there is no wrong place.  There is no place my will can remove me from God's Will. 

_________________________

I'm sorry, I know that's a lot for a Monday -- but sometimes I get an idea and I can't get it out of my head so I just shrug and figure either maybe I'm crazy -- very likely -- or maybe someone somewhere is supposed to read something like that and I should stop evaluating and just write it down and click Save and move on.  And there you have it.

Cheers!

Sober Experience vs. Time Sober

Speaking at a meeting not long ago, I made a point I often make, which is that "Time is not a tool" -- meaning that of the many tools Alcoholics Anonymous suggests we use to stay sober, however long you've actually gone without a drink or a drug, however long you may be continuously sober -- that length of time is not one of them.  The number on your chip is no ward against relapse.  Nor does it confer any authority, be it moral, spiritual or actual.

I believe this very strongly, in fact.  I don't often talk (here or in meetings) about my time sober unless it's to give context to a larger point.  I think that when people sharing mention how long they're sober, usually (not always, but often) they are grasping at credibility, perhaps trying to give themselves or what they're saying a certain gravity (which may not actually be warranted).

Having been to AA meetings on both coasts, and in more than one country, it seems to me that different regions place greater or lesser emphasis on "time."  Where I live it feels (to me) that more is made of it than maybe there should be.  Yes, yes, yes, the point is to stay sober, not get sober over and over again. If you do then the days add up to weeks, months and years.  But it's a human foible to sort people into better-than's and less-than's -- and putting a number on each person does that more than I care for.  I think it can make it more difficult to listen with open ears, as well.  If I know that someone is ten years sober do I unconsciously give more weight to what they're saying than if I know they have one year sober?  Perhaps.  Time sober is of value -- yes -- because without time sober I cannot accumulate sober experience -- but the time itself is not the important thing.

Part of the point I'm making is the difference between dry and sober, but we've covered that territory pretty well already at Mr. SponsorPants.

Back to the aforementioned speaking engagement I opened this with ...

As the sharing went around, a hand was raised in the back, and I called on a dapper young man, who looked like perhaps he'd just come from his office job straight to the meeting.  "Good for him." I thought.  Mr. Dapper shared about a few things, and then looked at me, his voice going up a bit with that tension which comes from heightened emotion, and said "I really disagree with you about the Time Sober thing."

I arranged my face in Warm Listening Expression #4 (The #4 is a good one.  Very Santa Clause.  Chin up a tiny bit, small smile, no teeth showing, bit of a squint -- really just a crinkling around the eyes --  head tilted to the side, and a slow nod yes once in a while. I make no secret of the fact that I'm an old fraud, and always have been, even when I was a young fraud).  I kept Warm Listening Expression #4 firmly in place and thought to myself, "You cross-talking little prat."  Nod, nod, smile, crinkle, crinkle.

He spoke with a fervent passion about this very thing. He was talking about the value of sober experience (and not time itself), and how it can, should, must be used to help other people. Where I'm not sure he and I lined up was the assumption he seemed to be making that time automatically equaled sober experience.  (Dry/Sober. See above.)  But when it comes to using our experience to help others stay sober, well, I couldn't agree more with him on that score.  Here was a young man who took the 12th Step to heart.  Took all the sting out of the confrontational way he framed it.  (Ok, ok, almost all.)

It is a particular flexing of the humble muscle not to directly respond to something like this.  To not yield to the sweet, gravitational pull from the (very human) need to set the record straight, and correct what they thought they heard you say with the facts about what you were actually trying to say.  In my opinion, to do so is to do a disservice to the group.  Go ahead, sit there and be corrected, even if it's not really warranted.  Because if you respond, the point they're making gets lost in the "No, no, no, what I meant was ..." The whole exchange becomes about the whole exchange, and not about the point of what you said, or what they said.  No one is helped when I try to prove I'm good or right.  Everyone is helped -- myself most of all, perhaps -- when I just allow things to be, and don't force my day in court, no matter how deeply the pull to do so.  Should you find yourself in this situation, remember:

Nod, nod, smile. Crinkle. Crinkle.

After the meeting I didn't get a chance to thank him for sharing, as he ducked out pretty quickly.  And I sincerely wanted to thank him, I thought what he said -- regardless of how he said it -- was spot on.

So it comes back to this:  Time is not a tool.

There is a lot written and discussed in AA for the newcomer, or people early in their journey of recovery -- and rightly so.  But this next part is for the other codgers out there:

The other point which must be addressed here is the slippery slope of ego.  The danger of making your years sober a part of your "identity" in the room.  Not only can it make you an insufferable boor, constantly trotting out stories from your early sobriety, hiding behind the years rather than discussing who you are and what you struggle with -- or no longer struggle with -- today, but it can become a wall you cannot (or, more accurately, will not) breach when you need to ask for help.

Because one thing I can assure you of, even if you haven't felt like you had to ask for help in some time -- you absolutely will need to again some day. That is a skill we must never let atrophy, and although we ask often for help from a Higher Power (whatever that may mean to you, personally), a silent plea to a cosmic entity can become a face-saving stall, when you're really in trouble.  In my experience God works most expediently through other people.  In asking for help directly from other people I am, in fact, asking for help from HP.  (Again and again, it seems, humility is the secret ingredient in almost every aspect of my sobriety).

If you're all wrapped up in being the Grand Poobah in your meeting, with XX years sober, whom people always listen to or defer to (which, I can also assure you, is almost completely in your mind) then you are not only afraid and ego-based, you are selfish as well.  Consider the joy felt when helping other people.  Who are we to avoid taking our turn at being helped, and thus deny others that same opportunity to experience such joy themselves?

Friday Night Fights! A special TRIPLE billing! It's YES vs. MAYBE vs. NO! (Special Appearance by "I Don't Know.")

Excuse me, Captain?

Yes?

Is this plane safe to fly in?  I mean, is it going to crash?

Maybe.

*****   *****   *****

Excuse me, Nurse?

Mmm Hmmm?

Is there rat poison in this baby bottle?

Maybe.

*****   *****   *****

Pardon me, Officer?

What is it?

If I snip the blue wire, will the bomb explode?

Maybe.

*****   *****   *****

Hey, Alcoholic.

What? WHAT?  Oh. Sorry. I've had a lot of coffee today.

If you go to that wedding reception -- If you go dancing with your ex -- If you attend that concert -- If you go on that Cruise to Alaska -- If you don't get that job -- If you get that promotion -- If you get turned down for that car loan -- If you go visit your family...

are you going to drink?

No?     Maybe?     Yes?

*****   *****   *****

See, that's the thing about "Maybe."  Maybe is a sly fox.  It is pretending to be a whole different word -- a whole different idea -- but it's not. (And if you want to play context games or get your Merriam Webster Ninja on, I ask you to wait a minute and let me make my point.)

Inside every "maybe" is a secret "yes" waiting to come out.  Because if the answer is not "no" then it could be "yes."  And there are some questions that cannot have even a secret, potential "yes" as the answer.

It takes an over-the-top example for me to get that.  Of course if I got any of those "maybe's" from the examples above I wouldn't get on the plane, give the baby the bottle or snip the wire.  Because even a potential "Yes" -- the secret stealth "yes" inside every "maybe" just waiting to pounce -- is unacceptable.  For some questions there's only one right answer -- and the only right answer for any of the above is "No." (Obviously.)

If you can't say with 100% assurance that it's "No" then that is cause for concern.  When an alcoholic (or an overeater, or a compulsive gambler, etc., etc., etc.) is considering a course of action (especially when you're new, kids -- I don't talk down to the newcomer -- and I hope it doesn't play that way here -- but there is some value in experience) one really good way of considering whether it's the right (safe) thing for you to do is to remember that, for us, saying "maybe" is like saying "yes." 

When I'm not spiritually fit -- that is, when I'm consumed by fear, burning with resentment, blinded by self pity -- in other words, when I'm in the shower getting ready to go out and face the day -- ok, ok, not every morning -- but when I'm vulnerable, "maybe" is all my alcoholism needs to start to work on me.

When it comes to safeguarding my sobriety in certain situations, if I can't say "No, I am not at risk for a drink" then I'm sneaking up on "yes" -- and "maybe" is how I do it.  It is as crazy and foolish a risk as any of the other over-the-top examples above.

For our purposes, in some instances, maybe = yes.  That won't cut it; because as I've said here before, in my experience, if you're really truly an alcoholic then your alcoholism is really truly trying to kill you.

And as far as "I don't know" goes -- which is only doing a Special Appearance in this particular Cage Match -- in this context "I don't know" is just "maybe" with an extra syllable.

Now, you wanna get your Merriam Webster Ninja on?

You have come to the right alcoholic word nerd.

Bring it.

Friday Night Fights! Rigid vs. Disciplined!

I once had to drink three pots of coffee to quit a job.

But I'll get to that in a minute.

Welcome to another Cage Match! Today, it's Rigid vs. Self Disciplined.

In a word, I think the main difference between them is fear.  (Damn. That guy is always turning up and ruining everything.  I hate that guy!)

I was talking to a sponsee on the phone earlier, and they were observing that they used to do a written 10th Step every night (for the new kids, AA's Step 10 says: Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.  Many AA's like to do one in writing, often at the end of the day.)  When my sponsee did do a nightly Step 10 (in a little journal they'd bought for just that purpose) they felt much better overall.  They couldn't pinpoint exactly when they stopped doing this good habit, it just sort of... fell away.  This particular sponsee is pretty willing, and it would be fair to say that in many areas of their life they're pretty self disciplined.  Funny how sometimes good habits, even for people who are generally self disciplined, can just sort of fall away.  (To my mind it may be useful to think about why the good habit falls away, to try to prevent its falling away again, but it's even more useful to pick up the new habit again, and sort out the "falling away" stuff after you're back into action.)  Being self disciplined about certain AA tools is a sound practice -- if I do the deal when it's no big deal then I'm already doing the deal when I really need it.

The thing about self discipline is that it has room for mistakes and minor interruptions -- it's got some flexibility.  I think this sponsee is easily going to get back into writing their 10th Step at night, because they are moving towards something:  In this case that feeling of peace they get when they're really active in working the Steps in their life.

Rigid is a whole other breed of cat.  I've been rigid, and while I can sure get busy behind that, it's all about fear. Fear of failure. Fear of not doing what I promised myself I would do. Fear of missing out, fear of screwing up, fear of not achieving the goal.  My god, rigid is exhausting.

In fact, I believe that when I'm rigid I'm motivated by fear of failing to achieve a goal and when I'm self disciplined I'm motivated by wanting to achieve that goal.

How does this impact AA, and my sobriety?

Because people who are rigid about their recovery seem more prone to snap, in my observation.  If I'm rigid about things I've got a lot of black-and-white thinking going on.  I'm closed minded, usually.  And I'm living in a lot of fear.  I think that is fertile ground for alcoholic thinking to creep in.  ("Therefore, the main problem of the alcoholic centers in his mind, rather than his body"  "Alcoholics Anonymous", AA's Big Book, pg. 23  Though in the interest of accuracy they're talking more about the curious mental blank spot in that specific passage.)

Self discipline is the long distance runner -- the pace may vary but you keep going.

Speaking for myself -- and in a general way about alcoholics, based on my observation -- rigid is a state alcoholics slide into much more easily than self discipline.

When some sponsees are new to working with me they ask if I want them to call me on the phone every day to "check in".  My answer is always the same: "If you like.  Call me as much as you need to, it always helps me to get out of myself, and your call will help with that.  If you want to make a commitment to yourself to call me every day that's fine, but if you don't, that's ok too."

Here's the rigid part: So then some of them decide in their head to call me every day.  Great! Love hearing from them.  But then they miss one day -- and then I don't hear from them for a week (unless I call them first, which I usually do, to talk about this very thing).  I don't hear from them for a week because, in the alcoholic mind, it goes like this: "I was going to call every day! I missed a day! I ruined it! Now I can't call at all!"  (of course that's an oversimplification, but that does seem to represent the logic chain).  And that's how being rigid works against us.  There's no breathing room with that.

Self discipline is working towards calling every day.  If you miss a day you get back to it a lot quicker, because you're trying to call every day, not trying to never-miss-a-day-calling.

OK. Now comes the drinking three pots of coffee to quit a job story.

After I was about ninety days sober I got a second job.  So I was working full time in the day, going to a meeting every night, and then working late nights and weekends.  It was good that I was so busy, it kept me from thinking a lot.  (But I have a very vivid memory of driving from the day job to the night job once, zipping along in my poor, battered alcoholic car, thinking about how -- at the time -- it had been months since I'd woken up with a hangover -- and prior to that it was probably ten years of waking up with a hangover every single day -- and just being so amazed and overjoyed by that fact I got choked up.)

While this was a great schedule for a while, I couldn't keep it up indefinitely, and eventually I had to give notice at the night job.  Except the guy I worked for was a powerful, difficult personality.  And at that time I didn't have the skills or tools or experience to be able to stand up to someone like that -- so I kept trying to give my notice and the conversation would always kind of just... go south.

Finally, I'd had it, and although it wasn't premeditated, I spent the afternoon drinking cup after cup of coffee (three pots worth -- no, really), working myself up into a caffeine-fueled frenzy.  I exploded into work, and had this crazy, intense, over-the-top conversation -- practically picking a fight, just so I could work up to having enough momentum to give my notice and finally quit.  (Later, when I told my sponsor about the whole thing, he observed that it takes more rocket fuel to launch than it does to fly.  Took me a while to get that.)

I think sometimes that applies when it comes to being self disciplined.  Sometimes I have to be really rigid first -- really get super crazy intense and put the no matter what! around something for me to get in forward motion.  Then, eventually (hopefully) I can downshift from the intensity of being rigid and kind of hit my stride with self discipline.

Sometimes it takes more rocket fuel to launch than it does to fly.

Of course praying helps a lot, too, on this.

Cheers!

Cage Match! Friday Night Fights! Apologies vs. Amends

"Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others." -- Step 9

"At some of these we balked." -- "Alcoholics Anonymous" (AA's Big Book) pg. 58  (Meaning, " We looked at some of the Steps and said, 'Hells no, there is no way I am ever doing that.'"  That's balking.)

Here's what I wish the Step said: "Avoided the people that we needed to make amends to until the offense we'd committed was so far in the past that we could safely pretend it hadn't happened."  I wouldn't balk at that!

Which, kids, before we get into today's Cage Match, I want to say loud and clear -- If it's your first time through the 12 Steps and you're not at Step 9, don't worry about it.  Balk at the step you're on.  You don't have to get to Step 9 till you've gone through Step 8 -- and the last half of Step 8 is about being willing, so right now, if you're balking, you're not willing, so don't worry about it.  (Hey, it's the closest thing to a loophole I've found in AA, so jump through it while you can, kiddos.)

It's a good idea to get through the first 7 Steps before you tackle 8 and eventually 9 (amends) anyway.  The people that try to do the amends before they do the Steps prior tend to make amends that go something like, "I'm sorry you were such an asshole and that it made me do what I did."  (Like a young man I knew in Seattle, who sent his Mother an "amends letter" in his first week of sobriety, without consulting with a sponsor or anyone else, that consisted of something like 11 typed pages describing all of the things that his Mother had done that forced him to do the things that he was now sorry he had done in response.  At the very least I think we can file that under "Unclear on the Concept.")

So for me, here it is:  An apology is polite. It is appropriate.  It may be long overdue. It may be sweet music to some people's ears when we say it.  And an apology, when sincerely made, allows people to practice the act of compassion and forgiveness towards us -- so we both grow, since that can be hard to give and it can be hard to take in.

But sadly, an apology is not enough. 

An apology alone is not really making amends.  Amends, according to our friends at Merriam Webster, is "compensation for a loss or injury."  And further, MW goes on to define compensation as, among other things, "something that constitutes an equivalent."  So an amends is not simply an "I'm sorry" (no matter the art form that some of us have elevated the apology to) it is the replacing what we took, hurt or damaged with a thing of equivalent value, if we can.

Not because it makes you a good person.  No. Because it sets you free.

Have you ever heard of the supermarket test?  Imagine that you're pushing your little supermarket cart down the aisle. (Damn! Why do you always get the cart with that bad wheel!)  You round the corner, you look down the aisle and there, reading a label, is Mr. X. He hasn't seen you yet.  Unfortunately, a while ago, at a party at Mr. X's house, you went into a blackout and did some very bad things...

Think for a minute of that reaction, in your gut, of how you feel in that moment when you first see Mr. X.  It's partly a flutter in your stomach, partly maybe some immediate defiance (because for an alcoholic the fact that we're probably in the wrong has absolutely no bearing on the fact that we ourselves, feel wronged, for being made to feel wrong even though it's all because we were in the wrong to start with!  I hurt you, seeing you reminds me of that, so I feel badly, and so now I resent you for making me feel badly!  We get angry, defiant and resentful at the person who is essentially triggering a guilty conscience!  It would be genius if it weren't so twisted.) Maybe there's a nice dose of shame in there too -- you must be something bad if you did something bad, right? (Guilt = I did something bad.  Shame = I am something bad.) 

That's the supermarket test.  How do you feel when you see ______ if you turn down the aisle and you see them before they see you.  Do you quickly turn your cart around and duck down another aisle, or do you keep going?

And that's what amends will free you from.  All that. When I make amends, I'm clean. And, amazingly, I'm free.  I may not feel fantastic at the memory of my performance at Mr. X's party (what I can hazily recall, that is) but I can take a deep breath and keep going down the aisle, saying hello and not dodging or grandstanding or grovelling.  I'm clean, so I'm free.

So while an apology is good, and often a part of the amends, it, in and of itself, is not an amends.  It is the making things right that is the amends.

(Separate from the what an amends is would be the question of if you should even do an amends -- that's a whole other issue, guided by whether or not you will hurt anyone else, and is covered beautifully in the book "Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions".)

AA literature is wise in that in discussing amends it acknowledges that there is no pat answer for all situations, and counsels you to consult with a sponsor and others before rashly moving ahead on some things.  But if it's all systems go, then the way I was taught to make amends, and what I've always passed along, is fairly simple.  I acknowledge what I did, I make restitution in whatever immediate way I can (in other words, bring your checkbook), and then I ask, "What else can I do to make this right?"

And then I shut up.  I let them say whatever they need to say to me, or ask of me whatever they need to ask of me for things to be right between us.

And the amazing thing is, no matter what happens -- no matter what happens -- from spit in your face to hug you and tear up your check -- when you do that, you're free.

That's really what an amends is, and how it's different from an apology.  It's not just another hanging your head, feeling like crap and saying "I'm so sorry, I'll never do it again." 

It's the opposite of hanging your head -- in fact, when you're done with all your amends, you never have to hang your head again.

Cage Match! Friday Night Fights! Powerless vs. Helpless!

"Lack of power, that was our dilemma.  We had to find a power by which we could live, and it had to be a Power greater than ourselves.  Obviously.  But where and how were we to find this power?"  -- "Alcoholics Anonymous" The Big Book of AA, pg. 45

Ok, first off, can I just say that every time I read that "Obviously" in the passage above it cracks me up.  It's like the 1930's speak for: "We were powerless over alcohol(ism) and so we needed to get some power.  Well, duh."

On pg. 44 of The Big Book there is a clear, simple definition of alcoholism: "If when you honestly want to, you find you cannot quit entirely, or if when drinking, you have little control over the amount you take, you are probably alcoholic."  I love that. It's pretty clear, but it's nice and roomy.  Regular Mr. SponsorPants readers know I'm fond of observing that AA is not selling anything. And the way that's phrased is so very Big Book, in that whole "probably" thing.  AA leaves you as much space as you need for you to decide for yourself that you are powerless over alcohol(ism).

And once you've made that decision it comes to this:  "We learned we had to fully concede to our innermost selves that we were alcoholics.  This is the first step in recovery."  (Big Book, pg. 30)  Certainly clear there as well. What is the first step in recovery?  Fully conceding to my innermost self that I am powerless over alcohol(ism).  Which got boiled down to the pretty much airtight statement in the first half of the First Step:  "We admitted we were powerless over alcohol --"

Ok. So that's how the dots connect up for me from the literature.  I, alone, am without any power at all over alcohol(ism).  On my own, in a one-on-one match against drinking, I do not stand a chance.  I'm standing on the beach, holding a tattered parasol, as a tidal wave races towards me. I've got no chance.  I'm in the ring, with my hands tied behind my back, facing Ali in his prime. I am certain to lose.  It's me against the hungry polar bear, and all I've got for weapons is an old Q-Tip and a wooden tooth.  (No. I have no idea where that last one came from.  I am as disturbed by it as you are.)

So being clear about what I mean when I say "I'm powerless" and then admitting this powerlessness on a gut level, without reservation, without debate, without negotiation, is the first (essential) step in recovering from alcoholism. 

But being without power is not the same as being without help.  There is an endless resource of help available to anyone who wants it via AA; from the collected sober experience of the fellowship itself, from the extremely practical advice of AA literature as a whole, and from the spiritual experience (whatever that looks like for you) that is a result of working through all 12 Steps.

(In fact, the punch line is that there is usually a lot more help than any of us want to receive.)

But I have to admit, I fear acting as though you're helpless and calling it powerlessness is a great self-con in AA.  My admission of powerlessness does not put me in a position of weakness.  In fact, paradoxically (and is it too grandiose for my little blog to observe that maybe all the spiritual Great Truths in the universe are in some way paradoxical?) it puts me in a position of strength.

Flag on the Field! 20 Yard Penalty! Passive-Aggressive-Cutesy-Reverse-Rhetorical-Question.  Don't make me warn you again, Pants.

Sorry.  Sometimes when I discuss spiritual stuff I get afraid that I sound pompous, so humor is my coping mechanism.  But that really was dreadfully passive-aggressive.  I'll watch that.

So by admitting my lack of power I'm then in a position to ask for help (first from AA and then from a Higher Power -- whatever that means to you) and thus my dilemma, which is the powerlessness, is solved! Huzzah!

But if I play at being helpless -- and call it powerlessness -- then I don't have to do anything.  I don't have to ask for help (and thus get some solution to my dilemma) and I can stay nice and comfortable and stuck. (And usually share ad nauseum about the same issue, over and over and over and over again, using the language of recovery to engage in sophisticated justifications dressed in 12 Step speak.  Turning into that creature is quite possibly my very greatest fear.)

I guess for me, an important distinction, the final throw-down in this cage match if you will, is that being powerless, and admitting it, and then asking for (and accepting) help is ultimately about action. Because if I have a problem and I get help in finding a solution then I can actually do something about it -- thus it becomes a call to action.

Saying you're powerless, but behaving as if you're helpless, is about inaction -- about keeping things frozen (fear at work again) and not having to make any changes.  And if I don't change then I don't grow and if I don't grow then... probably I drink.

As I've heard often over the years: Grow... or go.

Cage Match! Friday Night Fights! What I Know vs. What I Believe!

What I "know" vs. What I "believe"

I knew alcoholism was a disease for a long time before I believed it was a disease.  I knew that there was some sort of spiritual force in the universe -- God, for short -- before I really believed there was a God.

It's a strange and subtle thing, the dissonance between those two concepts: What I know to be true vs. what I believe to be true.

Is it best expressed as the difference between my head and my gut?

I guess what I "know" is rooted in logic, and "belief" is rooted in faith.  Logic can take me very far, but it can't get me all the way to any kind of faith.  It's a bridge that reaches almost from one shore to the other... but not quite.

To make it all the way over, to cross that last little distance, to make it from knowing to believing, I must leap.

Yes, it's time again for Friday Night Fights! Dry vs. Sober! (My money's on Dry, cause he fights dirty)

"We were having trouble with personal relationships, we couldn't control our emotional natures, we were a prey to misery and depression, we couldn't make a living, we had a feeling of uselessness, we were full of fear, we were unhappy, we couldn't seem to be of real help to other people..."  -- 'We Agnostics', "Alcoholics Anonymous" (The Big Book) pg. 52

Oh, man, now that's a pretty picture.

Taken out of context this could be a description for what's happening on any given season of "The Real World," but it is in fact a frighteningly accurate picture of untreated alcoholism.  (The passage above goes on to suggest the importance of finding a basic solution to these "bedevilments," prompting some folks to actually call this "The Bedevilments!"  So if you hear someone in a meeting say that, they're not going all Charlton Heston in "The Ten Commandments" on you, it's shorthand for that paragraph.)

As I've shared with you kids before, Mr. SponsorPants's preferred treatment for my alcoholism is, in fact, alcohol.  Unfortunately, that's no longer an option, what with the blacking out, the arrest(s), the pathetic whining, the disgusting behavior -- and that's just what happens before lunch.

So since I can't treat my alcoholism with alcohol <sob!> I had to find another way to treat it.  And that other way was AA.

I treat the physical aspect of my alcoholism (the overwhelming cravings for more more more that occur when I take a drink -- see 'The Doctor's Opinion' in "The Big Book" for the basics on that) by not picking up the first drink, and I treat the mental and spiritual aspects (the mental part meaning that despite all the things that have happened to me when I drink, it still seems like a good idea sometimes; and the spiritual aspect of course being the warped ego, the profound self involvement, the crippled self esteem and the twisted self obsession that usually characterizes any addict -- 'More About Alcoholism' in "The Big Book" is a good place to start to read about that) through the 12 Steps and the overall principles of AA as a whole.

So... what do you get when you have an alcoholic who is without alcohol and without AA?  Ah ... that, kids, is an excellent question, and brings us to today's Cage Match:

Dry vs. Sober!

Now, regular blog readers will know that Mr. SponsorPants is a really big fan of "The Big Book."  (How big a fan?  If it were a celebrity I would stalk it!)  So this next bit is not a criticism, it is an observation -- with maybe a little teeny historical context around the edges.

In my opinion, The Big Book uses the words "dry" and "sober" pretty much interchangeably.  I think this was because A) they were trying to write in a manner that was both interesting and readable, and B) the idea that there might be a real and substantive difference between those two states had not really gelled yet.

13 years later, when "Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions" was written, there is a much deeper exploration of the idea that sobriety consists of something more than just freedom from alcohol and recreational chemical use.

Yes, being free from alcohol (and pretty much anything that effects you from the neck up, with the obvious exception to that being the appropriate use of doctor-prescribed medication) is the starting place for sobriety.

But to just be free of alcohol, if you have an alcoholic mind is ... well, I think I can use the word "torture" here and not be too far off base.

Crappy relationships? Check!

Misery's plaything? Check!

Depression's bitch? Check!

Feeling useless? Afraid? Unhappy? Check, check, check!

And to escape that torture, an alcoholic usually ... anyone? Anyone? Beuller?

Drinks! Yes.

In my humble experience, the alcoholic mind, without the tools of recovery and the support of people in AA, begins to turn on itself.  It's like watching Smeagle turn into Gollum. (Man, in the past several posts I've had a couple of "Star Wars" references, and now I'm all "Lord of the Rings".  So I guess it's safe to say that I'm an alcoholic and a nerd.  Terrific.)

Put another way, I can be under the influence of alcoholism even though I'm not under the influence of alcohol.

And if I am, in fact, under the influence of alcoholism but not under the influence of alcohol, that, kids, is, in my humble opinion, Dry.

Sober is the state that for me includes a core of peace and good feelings.  I've always pictured it in my mind like the ocean -- the surface may be storm-tossed, but regardless of that the depths remain tranquil.  When I'm spiritually fit, when I'm sober, more than just dry, that's an apt description for how I feel.

But sober isn't, for me, something that once I "get there" I can relax.

It is a state I must work to keep -- just like when someone gets physically fit they can't stop working out and paying attention to what they eat if they want to stay physically fit -- so too, once I get sober, I must do my spiritual exercises (AA, for the most part) to remain spiritually fit (sober).

I've got to stop coming up with exercise and nutrition analogies.

It's really a buzzkill for my snack time.