I’m grateful for getting to watch the sun rise this morning and for another trip around it. I’m grateful for the way the world keeps spinning. I’m grateful for not knowing what’s next. I’m grateful for faith and even sometimes misguided beliefs. I’m grateful to be sober today.
I’m going to be relatively shameless about trying to take advantage of the fact that today is my birthday. It starts with the “Mystery Button,” above. It would be contrary to the letter, spirit and actual name of the “Mystery Button,” to disclose what happens when it is pushed. 1 As I knew that my birthday was on the way, I spent some time wondering what to write about or share that would have special significance and meaning.
I’m not going to chalk this next part up to any crazy Higher Power generated minor miracle, like the time the entire living room got lit-up this brilliant shade of orange, completely altering the trajectory of what seemed a lost day by about 6am?2 Anyway, I was pondering what exactly the words should be today, how do I sum up my experience over the last year, another non-AA calendar year of sobriety? I really was out of ideas, and then, for some reason, this song the content behind the “Mystery Button,” occurred to me.
I know I say this all the time, but I really do listen to this song, a lot. I always loved the old Sly and the Family Stone version, but, I’m sorry, this is just a way, way better cover. I think the Sly Stone version sounds a little resentful, and as resentments are the great killers of alcoholics, I’m going to opt for this happy-snappy version. There is even a kind of recovery-based message way into the song, something about “if you want me to say, I’ve got to be me.” This song accompanies me on very many walks and shoot-arounds in the park. I think there is about a 100 out of 100 chance that it will be played on today’s excursion to the little basketball chapel down the block.
That line did kind of hit me a while ago, the thing about having to be me. The reason I wasn’t able to stay in anything for too long, and required that alcohol-slicked escape slide, was that most of what I was doing was a very imperfect impersonation of myself.
Meaning, even I didn’t know what it was to be me.
That’s the story of my journey to sobriety, as I repeat endlessly and ad nauseam, it’s been the recovery of myself that has been the point of this expedition to the deep, dark parts unknown.
At the heart of every great expedition, there is a fairly insane belief. That there is a City of Gold hidden in the jungle, that the source of the Columbia River could be found, that Dr. Livingstone was alive. For sure, there are the folks who do just want to see what’s on the other side, and they do generate a lot of fairly expensive knowledge, but for most of the rest of us, there usually needs to be more of a purpose to things, or at least a potential purpose.
That’s why I go on and on about the Second Step, I think it is the “coming to believe” process that is closest to the beating heart of AA and the thing that actually does start generating the miracle-type stuff.3 I think it is the “coming to believe” thing that ultimately liberates alcoholics and addicts from the “obsession” that has plagued us.
The Third Step is about making a decision, and the Second Step is about drawing up the plan and infrastructure necessary to implement that decision. Yes, I do think one actually has to follow-up on that Third Step decision:
“I’m going to,” is not sufficiently decisive.
Fortunately, that cliff is not approaching too quickly. (This is one of my own cognitive deficiencies and the consequences can be quite significant). I share this trait with my spirit guide:
The Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous is very big on inventories and stock-taking. That is good, because this is a disease that is often manifested in delusional thinking and self-dishonesty. I don’t think this is a deliberate strategy people implement, it’s why addiction is a disease. It’s an unexpected and uncontrolled process that unfolds in the body (the brain and the electro-chemical “thoughts” it generates being part of that body) as a consequence of drinking. That is something I believe. And I think that’s a really important part of the work of Step Two and Three, developing an inventory of what you actually believe.
We’ve discussed the process of adding detail and contour to our Higher Power, and this is another aspect of this. What do I actually believe? That in turn lets me examine why I believe that and maybe even discern the connection between that belief and my Higher Power. We all know about the stupid lies we tell ourselves to keep the alcoholic ball rolling, here’s a chance to do that horrifying, visions of clown-inducing thing about “turning that frown upside-down!”
It’s an inventory of what I actually believe. Today, as I sit here, looking out at an island named after me and that I might own, I think it’s really important to ask, “What is it I actually believe?”4
I believe that there is a Higher Power. I don’t know too much about the hows and whys. I have some 20th Century versions of archetypal communications from on high, instead of setting bushes afire to get a point across, the big guy played “Don’t Go Breakin’ My Heart” on Q103.
I believe my Higher Power wants me to be the best possible version of myself. The problem being, I’m coming to understand this is the work of a lifetime, figuring out that best version and then navigating towards it.
I believe my Higher Power believes in learning. See above. The way one learns that one has actually not become the best version of themselves, or is not on a recognized path to such, is fairly brutal and capable of frequent repetition.5 This is not a sign of displeasure or judgment, simply a recognition that there is more to learn.
I believe the path can be very hard and this is not because my Higher Power is mean-spirited, it’s simply a reflection of the world we’ve made and the challenges it presents. The fact that I face disappointment, defeat or other bad things is not proof that there is no Higher Power, just that this is not something that my Higher Power fixes or can fix.
I believe that my Higher Power values an ability to withstand uncertainty. My Higher Power definitely values faith. Not knowing what comes next, is itself, a profound act of faith.
I believe that the things that are supposed to happen, generally do happen.
I believe that my Highest Power’s most fervent desire is that we love one another and ourselves. I think what happened in the Garden of Eden was that God got angry about Adam and Eve discovering shame and self-judgment. Who were they to judge what had been created? Fast forward, the very complicated and covet-heavy Ten Commandments get reduced to: Love God and your neighbors, as yourselves. That’s technically three groups: the Higher Power, the rest of humanity (not Mr. Rogers) and, importantly, one’s self.
I believe my Higher Power grants multiple opportunities to write the story of my life.
One of my most favorite sayings is “It’s always the 4th Quarter, Baby.” Meaning, if you haven’t noticed, the game has been on the line for a while. Every minute counts and we’re currently down a couple of buckets. I believe moments like that exist so that shit like this can happen:
That is exactly what I believe.
I feel like you should want to do this, and frankly, wonder why you haven’t.
This is a double-double entendre reference to both a previous essay and a favorite Wilco song.
The bar is low; Who really thought “Miracle Whip” was a miracle?
People often say, “Can you prove you own that island?” I often retort, “It is named after me, can you prove I don’t?” Hmm, a jaunt to my island might be in order….
I came very close to adding a link to this. You’re welcome.
Happiest of birthdays, TBD!
Happy birthday, TBD! 🥳