Cracking on

Sometimes, I rush at step work and do an imperfect job (to say the least), either ignoring or overriding instructions, suppressing possible avenues of investigation, cutting corners under the guise of ‘keeping it simple’, wanting at all costs the process to be over, but with the belief I have actually completed the mission. I will justify this on the grounds that I am keen, committed to the programme, and the good student sitting at the front of the bus.

The truth of the situation is that I am performing the task in question in order to avoid the task in question. I do not want to look. I do not want to sit with the discomfort of seeing my beliefs, thinking, and behaviour (and the consequences thereof in my life and in that of others) in a stark light. I do not want to sit with confusion or uncertainty. I do not want to be trepidatious of all of the dark areas lying beyond immediate sight.

The two ways of avoiding the process are to avoid the process altogether or to give the appearance of keenness whilst refusing to really look and see and satisfying myself with pat, rote, borrowed, glib, self-abasing, self-indulgent, bloodless, analytical, historical, or wordy answers or observations, all of which are different ways of avoiding calling the spade the spade.

The solution is to sit with the material until it settles down, ensuring that it is not only concise and punchy but also complete, accurate, and entirely honest. Only once my eyes have completely accustomed themselves to the dark can I be sure that I am really seeing everything in the room.

Progress is measured not by how quickly I ‘get through the Steps’ or how many boxes I can tick or how many paragraphs I can read or how many third columns I can write but by the fundamental change in how I think that flows from these exercises. A month spent on one inventory item, if that changes how I think, is worth more than a month spent on one hundred inventory items that leaves me completely unchanged in my approach to belief, thought, and action.