Episode Seven Liner Notes
Breakfast with Sean @ Gracie's Corner Diner
I hope you had a chance to listen to my breakfast with Sean. If not, well, that’s easily fixed:
There are so many things to take away from our conversation, but I think the one that struck me the most is the importance of the power of attraction in recovery. One of the hardest parts of getting sober is having to come to terms with yourself. In Sean’s case, being gay is a big part of his story and a big part of his recovery has been finding LGTBQ AA meetings. One of the central tenets of AA is that it is based on the principle of attraction rather than promotion. The Eleventh Tradition enshrines attraction rather than promotion as AA’s “public relations policy,” and it emerges as one of Bill W’s central themes in the Big Book.
Alcoholics helping other alcoholics is, of course, the foundation of AA and in Chapter 7 of the Big Book, “Working with Others,” you can see how central Bill believed the principle of attraction was to the process of recovery. If you remember my breakfast with Natalie: (BWAA Episode Six)1, she talked about how being a sponsor in the program had transformed the dark moments of her life into beacons of light for others. And that’s what happens, the program transforms our tragedies and struggles into the tools of recovery and makes us “uniquely useful to other alcoholics.” Big Book p. 89.
The rest of the Chapter emphasizes the importance of a slow approach:
“If (they) do not want to see you, never force yourself upon (them). Neither should the family hysterically plead with (them) to do anything…”
Big Book p. 90.
To the producers of Intervention: Please Take Note: Bill W lays out the proper approach:
“If you are satisfied that he is a real alcoholic, begin to dwell on the hopeless feature of the malady. Show him, from your own experience, how the queer mental condition surrounding that first drink prevents normal functioning of the will power. Don’t, at this stage, refer to this book unless (they) have seen it and wishes to discuss it. And be careful not to brand him as an alcoholic. Let him draw his own conclusion.”
Big Book p. 92
Addiction is a terribly perplexing disease and one of the great mysteries is how we find our way out. The sad reality is that not that many of us do make it out and it’s difficult to describe with any precision what is the mixture of loss and grief and pain and absolute horror at ourselves and how we’re living that finally tips the scales. What hitting bottom means is different for everyone and so is what it takes to finally show us that the life we’re leading is unsustainable, no longer manageable. That is the darkest part of the journey and I think it’s a journey that you have to make alone—at least I did. It’s the moment when you can see the chance and the prospect of a new, sober beautiful life and hopefully, in that moment, you have the strength and courage and faith to grab hold of it.
Those dark moments were, for me, the first time I really and truly saw where I was and how I’d been living my life. The first time I had enough self-honesty to recognize how far off the rails I’d gone; just how lost I was. Bill W finally knew he was at the very end of his rope and in walked Ebby Thacher, “fresh-skinned and glowing,” with his story of a miraculous salvation from drinking through spiritual enlightenment. But Ebby Thacher was not the only miracle in the room that night, because it was also the night that Bill W, after years of relapses saw for the first time that he wanted what Ebby had and, more importantly, that what had worked for Ebby might work for him. That’s the program of Alcoholics Anonymous in a nutshell. One miracle begets another.
Bill correctly realized that you couldn’t force a spiritual awakening on someone (Producers of Intervention, again please take note).I’m guessing that Bill had a stubborn streak and didn’t like being told what to do (two very important traits of long-term alcoholics). For people like us, the question AND the answer ultimately have to come from within, meaning that unless we want it, we won’t do the work necessary to get it. Bill enshrined this principle in the Big Book and in the Eleventh Tradition, but it is also the foundation of the Fourth and Fifth Traditions. I realize, even for alcoholics, there isn’t as much focus on the Twelve Traditions, but they are very important for understanding the philosophy of AA.
The Twelve Traditions of Alcoholics Anonymous
1. Our common welfare should come first; personal recovery depends upon A.A. unity.
2. For our group purpose there is but one ultimate authority — a loving God as He may express Himself in our group conscience. Our leaders are but trusted servants; they do not govern.
3. The only requirement for A.A. membership is a desire to stop drinking.
4. Each group should be autonomous except in matters affecting other groups or A.A. as a whole.
5. Each group has but one primary purpose — to carry its message to the alcoholic who still suffers.
6. An A.A. group ought never endorse, finance, or lend the A.A. name to any related facility or outside enterprise, lest problems of money, property, and prestige divert us from our primary purpose.
7. Every A.A. group ought to be fully self-supporting, declining outside contributions.
8. Alcoholics Anonymous should remain forever non-professional, but our service centers may employ special workers.
9. A.A., as such, ought never be organized; but we may create service boards or committees directly responsible to those they serve.
10. Alcoholics Anonymous has no opinion on outside issues; hence the A.A. name ought never be drawn into public controversy.
11. Our public relations policy is based on attraction rather than promotion; we need always maintain personal anonymity at the level of press, radio, and films.
12. Anonymity is the spiritual foundation of all our traditions, ever reminding us to place principles before personalities.
The Fourth and Fifth Traditions empower AA groups to experiment with the focus of the program as well as the format and content of meetings. The grant of autonomy to local meetings is a pretty remarkable way to establish an organization that has become as large as AA, but it demonstrates the importance of the power of attraction. At breakfast, Sean talked about how much he enjoyed going to LGBTQ meetings and how powerful and liberating it was to hear other people who shared the same story. I love fly fishing and the reason you carry an assortment of flies works on exactly the same principle: If you can’t put something attractive in front of a trout, you’re probably not going to catch him.
That’s the importance of the power of attraction. When you hit that low point and realize you can’t go on like you have been, that’s when miracles happen and the people who can show you the way out weirdly appear in your life. It’s not just that someone puts the message in front of us, it’s that the messenger appears to have been carefully selected to maximize the chance that the message will get through. Sound crazy? Don’t believe me? Go to an AA meeting and listen to the weird coincidences, AA old-timers call them “God Shots.” Whatever, they are miracles and when they are shared, someone else may be dumb-struck and think, “wait, that’s exactly me! Maybe this could work for me?” That’s the power of attraction at work and without that powerful incentive, most of us could probably not do the hard work ahead:
Almost none of us like the self-searching, the leveling of our pride, the confession of shortcomings which the process requires for its successful consummation. But we saw that it really worked in others, and we had come to believe in the hopelessness and futility of life as we had been living it.
Big Book, p. 25
Sean also has some great musical taste. He talked about Alanis Morissette’s You Learn being a favorite song in recovery and that is a great one.
Jagged Little Pill is, in my estimation, one of the great albums of all-time, but I’m sorry to Sean and everyone else who likes You Learn or Ironic, but the best song on the album is, of course, You Oughta Know:
“I’m sure she’ll make a really excellent mother,” is one of the great lines in Rock and Roll history, in my humble opinion. I was a young lawyer in DC when that album came out. I was a very hard-charging litigator, a very hard-drinking litigator, too, and there was a river of rage and ambition (I’ve come to think they are similar) running through me. I’d be stuck in the horrible DC morning commute, it felt like I spent years on the Whitehurst Freeway, and when You Oughta Know came on, the volume in my Saab with the child seats went to 11.2
It didn’t really have anything to do with the words or the situation. It was just the raw, burning anger that I connected with—and it was that raw, burning anger that kept me drinking for so long. But I still love that song and I’m suspicious of people who don’t crank it up. Also, what devious mind put Perfect as the next song on the album? That is pure genius and why I love albums. Seriously, if you didn’t listen above, you should now:
There’s another episode of Breakfast with an Alcoholic on the horizon. Look for Episode Eight (my breakfast with Chris Y) very, very soon. Until then, be well, stay groovy and call your sponsor!
Thanks for Letting Me Share
To those of you old enough to have used the AOL music player back in the day: The fact that the volume control also went to 11 was not a coincidence.