When, after many years in AA, I was finally introduced to the AA programme set out in the Big Book by people who had been applying the programme for decades, my life was revolutionised and I was set on a path allowing apparently limitless spiritual expansion. "Happy, joyous, and free" (133:0, 'Alcoholics Anonymous') was no longer an empty platitude but the most accurate way of describing the new state into which I had been brought by a God in whom, just weeks earlier, I had not believed as anything more than an abstract cipher.
However, I developed a fresh new resentment—as my past was cleared, a fresh illusion rushed in. It was exhilarating. All of a sudden, I had a target for my frustration at my years of unhappiness in AA (despite a lot of footwork and willingness on my part). I was then thrilled to discover that this fresh new resentment was socially acceptable amongst many people working out of the Big Book. The target of the resentment—'middle of the road AA'. The unspoken definition of 'middle of the road AA'—anyone but 'us'; the definition of 'us'—the people of the Book: the light, the truth, the way.
This resentment was a dubious path (49:2) born of vanity (49:1).
The vanity lay in the belief that I could take credit for the gifts of insight and grace (= the power to choose God over self) and therefore blame those without the gifts of insight and grace. The truth: if what I had received—a growing understanding of the programme and the power to start implementing it at depth—was a gift, how could I blame anyone else for not having received it?
Even worse than this was the vanity that any insight given to me was the only insight worth having and any insight given to you was worthless—the vanity of believing that I was privy to the only path up the mountain to God.
This particular form of spiritual pride and the requisite tolerance as an antidote thereto is perhaps best illustrated as follows:
This resentment was also a dubious luxury (66:2). The luxury element lay in the cushioned smugness of being 'right'. What overshadowed the momentary luxury, however, was the price: "[A] life which includes deep resentment leads only to futility and unhappiness." (66:1)
Unhappiness: certainly true; the grumbling, sniping, and fulminating left me separated and sour.
But futility? Surely it is my job to bring as many people as possible to the 'truth' of how most effectively to apply the AA programme in order to recover from alcoholism?
A man said to me in a recent Step Five, "how many people have you condemned to death because they disagree with you?" This hit home hard. I am still alive today because people who had recovered from alcoholism approached me with the solution, not with sniping, not with condemnation, not with finger-wagging, not with self-righteous criticism of how I was operating in AA, but with love and tolerance as the spoonfuls of sugar enabling the truth to be swallowed.
The way I was operating in AA—believing I was the shield and buckler of 'Big Book truth'—was grossly handicapping my effectiveness.
My faults:
In fact, the list of principles set out in the first 164 pages that I was actively flouting is pretty endless. To sum up: love and tolerance (84:2) of anyone in AA not believing or acting precisely as I did was not my code.
So, what does work?
My defects of character have certainly not been eliminated in their entirety, let me hasten to add. I fall short and fall flat on my face on a regular basis. But I have indeed learned a little bit more about what is effective in carrying the message.
I largely try and stick to this (58:1):
If what I am like is not attractive, what I have to offer will be of no interest, period. It does not matter, then, what is true or not true—no one is being helped, least of all me, because I have cut myself off from the one Power that keeps me sober by cutting myself off from you.
To sum up, all I have to do is follow the instructions on p. 51:0.
There is no place in this for criticism, intolerance, or condemnation.
(My) resentment is the number one killer. Not just of me, but of those I would help of God's Power, Love, and Way of Life (63:2).
Fear—of what would have become of me had the message not been carried to me—and intolerance—of anyone or anything or any principle in the fellowship of AA as a whole must be extirpated—cut out at its root—if I am to be of maximum service to God and the people around me (77:0).
In rereading this, I realise how much further I have to go towards this ideal. I thank God, therefore, that all that is required, if we make mistakes, is that we have the honest desire to let God take us to better things (70:1).
However, I developed a fresh new resentment—as my past was cleared, a fresh illusion rushed in. It was exhilarating. All of a sudden, I had a target for my frustration at my years of unhappiness in AA (despite a lot of footwork and willingness on my part). I was then thrilled to discover that this fresh new resentment was socially acceptable amongst many people working out of the Big Book. The target of the resentment—'middle of the road AA'. The unspoken definition of 'middle of the road AA'—anyone but 'us'; the definition of 'us'—the people of the Book: the light, the truth, the way.
This resentment was a dubious path (49:2) born of vanity (49:1).
The vanity lay in the belief that I could take credit for the gifts of insight and grace (= the power to choose God over self) and therefore blame those without the gifts of insight and grace. The truth: if what I had received—a growing understanding of the programme and the power to start implementing it at depth—was a gift, how could I blame anyone else for not having received it?
Even worse than this was the vanity that any insight given to me was the only insight worth having and any insight given to you was worthless—the vanity of believing that I was privy to the only path up the mountain to God.
This particular form of spiritual pride and the requisite tolerance as an antidote thereto is perhaps best illustrated as follows:
"I am reminded in this connection of the picture of a hub with its radiating spokes. We all start at the outer circumference and approach our destination by one of many routes. To say that one spoke is much better than all the other spokes is true only in the sense of its being best suited to you as an individual. Human nature is such that without some degree of tolerance, each one of us might be inclined to believe that we have found the best or perhaps the shortest spoke. Without some tolerance we might tend to become a bit smug or superior—which of course is not helpful to the person we are trying to help, and may be quite painful or obnoxious to others. No one of us wishes to do anything which might act as a deterrent to the advancement of another—and a patronizing attitude can readily slow up this process. Tolerance furnishes, as a by-product, a greater freedom from the tendency to cling to preconceived ideas and stubbornly adhered-to opinions. In other words it often promotes an open-mindedness which is vastly important—in fact a prerequisite to the successful termination of any line of search, whether it be scientific or spiritual. These, then, are a few of the reasons why an attempt to acquire tolerance should be made by each one of us." (Dr Bob, 1944)
This resentment was also a dubious luxury (66:2). The luxury element lay in the cushioned smugness of being 'right'. What overshadowed the momentary luxury, however, was the price: "[A] life which includes deep resentment leads only to futility and unhappiness." (66:1)
Unhappiness: certainly true; the grumbling, sniping, and fulminating left me separated and sour.
But futility? Surely it is my job to bring as many people as possible to the 'truth' of how most effectively to apply the AA programme in order to recover from alcoholism?
A man said to me in a recent Step Five, "how many people have you condemned to death because they disagree with you?" This hit home hard. I am still alive today because people who had recovered from alcoholism approached me with the solution, not with sniping, not with condemnation, not with finger-wagging, not with self-righteous criticism of how I was operating in AA, but with love and tolerance as the spoonfuls of sugar enabling the truth to be swallowed.
The way I was operating in AA—believing I was the shield and buckler of 'Big Book truth'—was grossly handicapping my effectiveness.
My faults:
• I was not attuned to the welfare of others (161:2).
• I was not putting myself in the place of those I wanted to help, to see how I would like to be approached if the tables were turned (90:1).
• I was criticising rather than cooperating (89:3).
• I was imbued with a spirit of intolerance which was repellent to "alcoholics whose lives could have been saved, had it not been for such stupidity" (103:1).
• I was of little use, as my attitude was one of bitterness or hostility—and (ex-)drinkers were not standing for it (103:2).
• I had certainly not stopped fighting anybody or anything (103:3)—I was on the warpath against certain people, certain institutions (particular AA meetings), and many, many principles (AA slogans and advice).
• I was not letting people see that I wanted to be helpful rather than critical (111:4).
• I was not following the first principle of success—that I should never be angry (111:1).
• I was neither patient nor of good temper (111:1).
• I was exhibiting a passion for crusade and reform—I was talking down to people from a moral and spiritual hilltop (95:1).
• I was promoting, not attracting (Tradition Eleven).
In fact, the list of principles set out in the first 164 pages that I was actively flouting is pretty endless. To sum up: love and tolerance (84:2) of anyone in AA not believing or acting precisely as I did was not my code.
So, what does work?
My defects of character have certainly not been eliminated in their entirety, let me hasten to add. I fall short and fall flat on my face on a regular basis. But I have indeed learned a little bit more about what is effective in carrying the message.
I largely try and stick to this (58:1):
• What I (not 'it') was like.
• What happened to me (93:0)—how I was brought into a way of living infinitely more satisfying and useful than the life I had been living before (43:0). Me—as the passive recipient of insight and grace. Even my willingness (which forms the basis for action) is a gift for which I can take no genuine credit.
• What I am like now—not what I believe, what I think, what I judge to be right and wrong, etc. The more I conceal the joy in my life under a carapace of smug superiority and contempt, the less true to the gift I am.
If what I am like is not attractive, what I have to offer will be of no interest, period. It does not matter, then, what is true or not true—no one is being helped, least of all me, because I have cut myself off from the one Power that keeps me sober by cutting myself off from you.
To sum up, all I have to do is follow the instructions on p. 51:0.
"Once confused and baffled by the seeming futility of existence, they show the underlying reasons why they were making heavy going of life. Leaving aside the drink question, they tell why living was so unsatisfactory. They show how the change came over them. When many hundreds of people are able to say that the consciousness of the Presence of God is today the most important fact of their lives, they present a powerful reason why one should have faith."
There is no place in this for criticism, intolerance, or condemnation.
(My) resentment is the number one killer. Not just of me, but of those I would help of God's Power, Love, and Way of Life (63:2).
"The slightest sign of fear or intolerance may lessen your husband's chance of recovery." (120:2)
Fear—of what would have become of me had the message not been carried to me—and intolerance—of anyone or anything or any principle in the fellowship of AA as a whole must be extirpated—cut out at its root—if I am to be of maximum service to God and the people around me (77:0).
In rereading this, I realise how much further I have to go towards this ideal. I thank God, therefore, that all that is required, if we make mistakes, is that we have the honest desire to let God take us to better things (70:1).