Train

“When we became alcoholics, crushed by a self-imposed crisis we could not postpone or evade, we had to fearlessly face the proposition that either God is everything or else He is nothing. God either is, or He isn’t. What was our choice to be?” (Page 53, Big Book)

“Half measures availed us nothing. We stood at the turning point. We asked His protection and care with complete abandon. Here are the steps we took, which are suggested as a program of recovery:” (Page 59, Big Book)

Imagine getting on a train at King’s Cross for Edinburgh, and there’s a sign suggesting that one might want to dine in the dining car on the way to Edinburgh. Of course, if one boards the train and does not eat in the dining car but settles for a sausage in a box or nothing at all, one will still arrive in Edinburgh.

Sometimes people say how thrilled they are that the Twelve Steps are merely suggested, as the option not to take the Twelve Steps is somehow a valuable one, the choice as to whether or not to take them a great luxury.

If you’re dithering on the platform at King’s Cross, and the guard says, “I suggest you board now because the train is about to leave,” you would be foolish to luxuriate in the choice or to say, “Thank you for the suggestion. I’ll take it into consideration,” or worse, “I’m a rebellious alcoholic, haha! No one tells me what to do!” If you hesitate, you’ll miss the train. The guard will turn his back and say, “Please yourself, then”

When I was new, I kept hesitating, and I kept drinking again, without warning, and without internal opposition. That’s the self-imposed crisis.

‘Suggestion’ merely means no person is forcing me. It does not mean the course of action is optional if I want results. I am indeed forced, not by people, but by circumstances.