The Point

Say “Hello” to my Higher Power

By John W

As I am sure was true with many, I did not arrive at the rooms of A.A. on the wings of victory. Not long after I crashed and began burning on A.A.’s doorstep I found out that it was also often true that folks like me, who thought they had a vibrant spiritual life, discovered the opposite, which was that it was precisely this aspect of their life that had had become damaged and needed treatment if the drinking problem was to be successfully addressed. This challenge, this need to come to believe was the next skirmish I confronted in my battle with alcoholism. My sponsor had done a great job in preparing me to take the step, but said one plank of it was mine and mine alone. I was the only one who would determine with what I was I coming to believe would restore me to sanity. 

What was my conception of a Higher Power, or if you will as did I, of God? Because I had grown up Catholic, and remain so to this day, I had an early and for me quite pleasant, wonderful and beautiful experience of God. I did not come to see him as a white-haired old man, a pseudo-Santa Claus, sitting in the clouds with a big ledger in his lap, making checks on one side for my naughtiness and on the other side for my niceness. I had seen him as a gentler, kinder figure, much like my father Bob or and my dear uncle John. Each in their own way loved children, welcoming them into their home like my dad or into their machine shop, like my Uncle John. They each used such encounters to “teach” the curious youths like me, as to how to approach dealing with the tasks at hand, in other words how to live life on life’s terms. This could be anything from how to better interact with my three sisters as their then only brother, to how to repair a damaged piece of metal with a lathe and hand file. If, as I had grown up believing, these men, my mom, my sisters and I, that is everyone, had been made in the image and likeness of my God, then I wanted that God to resemble these two men most of all as they were kind, positive and powerful influences in my life. 

That rhapsody with the spiritual side waivered for me after I began drinking and, as a young, single man, got overcome by heartier drinking, mixed with playing rugby, a sport that I loved, chasing girls and working to achieve a professional degree in law. This combination of pursuits did not enhance or otherwise foster my spiritual growth. On the outside I had hung my legal shingle, got engaged to a wonderful Catholic girl from an upbringing which mirrored mine and had the world at my command. On the inside my drinking was getting worse and eating me alive. Overlooked were the legal problems, a wrecked car in a blackout, later DUIs, and stupid antics at social gatherings unbefitting a man of my stature. These shortcomings were all rationalized in one of a hundred different ways, none every being that I had a problem with alcohol. 

Following the exchange of the “I dos”, I began trying to hide my drinking because I quickly realized that my wife was not as keen on my deportment and demeanor after I had had a few. This subterfuge of course only enhanced the marital discord and my lies to cover my transgressions just made everything worse. After over a decade of marriage, with divorce court in the immediate future and business and personal bankruptcies on the looming horizon, I was finally approaching that last house on the block, the one where “those meetings” occurred. The months that passed while I listened but failed to understand the importance of the not drinking part of our Program had at least given me the opportunity to hear how others had ”come to believe.” When I was finally honest with my fellows about my continued drinking and the miracle of the obsession being lifted occurred, my sponsor and I worked the Steps. He helped me to see I had to develop my conception of a God that would restore me to sanity and thus I turned to the faith of my youth again. I asked myself what it was about that conception of God that had so intrigued me in my younger days. While not a complex answer, upon reflection it seemed I arrived at it only by measured steps.

I believe because I had the willingness to search, the door of which we are told we will most assuredly confront, was indeed ajar for me. So it was that the slightest nudge was enough to spring it open and allow me its threshold to cross. It seemed however not that I was in some familiar space or land. Rather, it was as if I had alit from the gangway of an arriving ship and stepped onto a new and wonderful place, a land of serenity. I had the thought that I was meeting an old friend, like a college roommate I had not seen in years. This was my Higher Power greeting me with open arms. I could almost feel his warm hug envelop me, almost hear him say “I’ve missed you.” Since taking that step, the relationship—and yes, I do see it as a relationship—seems to have steadily strengthened as time has passed. 

The moments of indecision seem fewer and farther apart than before. The sense of calm which more often comes upon me, leads me to speculate about what pilots describe as flying through the eye of a hurricane. I wonder whether that which I am experiencing is a personal variant of this phenomenon of mother nature. Like my old friend imagined, I have grown able to tell this new old friend again found everything and anything. I can ask him for help, in the same way I now tell you about that request, and know that he is listening. I have even started to grasp the reality that just because  I know he hears me, does not necessarily mean the answer will come in the manner requested or in the fashion of which I had hoped. But this is a reality I have come to accept completely. 

This is how I describe my God, my Higher Power. Someone to whom you can offer your most heartfelt or anguished “hello” with comfort in the certainty that he will hear it. He will ask you to come join him, to rest a bit in the shade and quiet of a tree’s cool boughs on a warm day and share a draught from a rustling rill trickling by. Best of all, I no longer feel alone. I have come to believe all will be well if I just trust in him. You too should feel free to say “hello” to him (or her). You will be heard, you will not be alone anymore.

Touchstones Into Stepping Stones 
By Christine R.

Walking into these rooms only to hear “pain was the touchstone of all spiritual progress,” how heartily I wanted to run the other direction! My alcoholic story was rife with pain and abject misery, going day to day, hour to hour haunted by a river of pain. Loneliness and pain. Wanting only to drown them—not face them. The last thing I wanted was more pain. By working the steps, taking days one at a time, I came to understand the rest of the lines: “The pains of drinking had to come before sobriety, and emotional turmoil before serenity” (Step 10, pgs 93-94, Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions). 

First of all, what qualifies as a touchstone? Touchstone is defined as a threshold, a gauge, a baseline. For us, the baseline bottom line is that some sort of pain brought us through the doors of A.A.: A court-ordered restraining order, the pained look in the eyes of a child, the loss of one’s family, home, car, employment—all things meaningful to life. Pain is an initial touchstone. At the same time, pain becomes the gift. Our painful past “may be of infinite value to others” who are struggling to get sober. The man with three days has personal experience for the man with three hours on how to get through one more day without drinking. We all have something to share. As Bill pointed out, “pains of failure become assets.” 

The answer to why “most alcoholics have to be pretty badly mangled” came while I was crossing the Golden Gate Bridge with my friend, Luke, a long-time member in my home group. Racing at top-speed in his Jaguar, Luke gave me a gentle nudge on the shoulder and asked if that got my attention. “Not really,” I replied. Then Luke gave me a strong push against my arm, asking if that got my attention. “Not that much,” I said. Then Luke damn near pushed me out the door asking, “Now do I have your attention?” Shrieking like banshee, I shouted, “Ok! Ok! You got my attention!” Hooking me back in, Luke said alcoholics are like that. We need a big, fat shove out a moving vehicle before we do anything. 

The self-imposed crisis and the incomprehensible pain they talk about was the very thing that drove me into A.A. right on through to the doors of the Mill Valley Cabin Meeting. Getting to a 7 a.m. meeting was a pain but nothing like the non-stop pain of fear, bewilderment and isolation. My disease had me by the throat. The only reason my alcoholism let me live was to provide transportation to get more booze. 

Eventually, came the discovery that willingness provides the flexibility to surrender, to listen and to change. When my sponsor asked if I were willing to go to any length to stay sober, the response was a resounding “Yes!” Thanks to the terrific beating my alcoholism administered, came the deep quality and principle of willingness. 

The way through is the way out. Like the Gordian knot, the more we fight alcoholism, the tighter the noose. Through the pains of getting sober, sometimes right down to the DTs, touchstones can transform into stepping stones, 12 of them in fact. Touchstones need not be painful. Meetings, sponsors and phone calls provide ways out from under. With these new baselines we transition from daily drinking into daily sobriety. 

Sobriety came easier seeing my sponsor seated in the same place, at the same time, alongside other steady members. Simply by showing up every day and participating made all the difference to us newcomers. Eventually we transform touchstones into stepping stones for ourselves and for those about us, one day at a time.

Reactability
By John W

The knack of re-acting, again and again
I had this down pat, I was a pro with no equal or so I mused

Often did I indulge in this reality
It had become a soft, comforting hand

Affirming that all was right with the world
That all was right with my place in it

I had merely to re-act, yesterday or last week or five minutes ago
Knowing without a doubt: this time things would be different

This time would not be like the last disaster
This time that perfect, wonderful result would attend my actions

Reactability I finally discovered, much to my shock,
But of no surprise to those around me, was insanity!

As sure as playing Russian Roulette with a fully loaded gun
Expecting when the trigger was pulled, I would not blow my head off.

As the days had begun to pass
The first suggestion became more of my marrow

With each passing day, the second seemed more in focus
Not some wild passing thought or artful fancy

This thought, this Belief, was becoming a part of me
It was becoming vital to me, like air or water to life

Each day “without”, seemed to charge this Belief even more
No longer was I sentenced to a life of loneliness, uselessness

Somehow, somewhere, sometime after the days without began
I, the skeptic, the doubter, the different one, had come to believe

I don’t know how this happened, I cannot explain it
But no longer was I alone, no longer without purpose

This Belief, like the dawning of a sunny day
Was blossoming in my being, infusing into my every cell

Would that I could better describe it to my peers
Yet it mattered not to them what “It” was, only that It was

Commune with this Spirit freely, often, they advised
My bane with spirits before, was now my daily reprieve

“Make It your very own” they responded, when I asked
For details, wanted specifics, afraid of what I could be told.

In the high noon of this Belief do I now dwell
Always a reminder that It is truly greater than I!

With each new sunrise of my day in this Belief
I know my Reactability is gone, my sanity restored.

Save Me From Myself
By Dee H

To whom it may concern
Please God save me from myself
I’ve grown weary and forlorn
Trapped inside this lonely shell
There often is nowhere to turn

No matter how hard I try
There is no place to run
Nor hide from the worst one
Who heaps guilt and shame upon
Me, I am the person to blame

There is only one direction
To look and it isn’t contained
In a book though they may help
Many are true and well written
Yes, I must leap outside myself

A wise voice speaks through others
Often They send clear messages
The most important thing is there
In their voice asking me to please
Give them some kind and gentle care

Finding a Higher Power when capitalized words have a negative affect on an alcoholic with an on-again off-again relationship with formal religion.

(Audio Only)

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“Be quick to see where religious people are right, make use of what they offer.” (Alcoholic Anonymous, pg. 87)

Photo by John L

St. Mary’s Church, Nicasio, CA – December 2022