I’m grateful for another Tuesday morning and the chance to see something different when I look at the same things. I’m grateful to not have to figure everything out. I’m grateful for letting things appear. I’m grateful to be sober today.
I have a fair number of perhaps delusional beliefs. And this is me being generous to myself. If this newsletter has what are considered “pages,” then, it’s fair to say that, in these “pages,” I have suggested at various times that the Universe has communicated with me via the following methods:
The finding of lost pennies
Sudden, mysterious voices in locker rooms and at construction sites
The shuffle function on Spotify
A juvenile hawk that spent his adolescent-hood in the neighborhood
A solitary Mourning Dove
More pennies
The arrival/departure of various personages from my life
The rising of the sun over the smokestacks by the RFK bridge.
And other random stuff
So, that does start to look a little crazy. There is no way of knowing whether any of these beliefs could possible be true in any of the infinite or practically infinite strands of the multiverse. I also don’t think I will gain this knowledge in the afterlife. What if the Higher Power very much enjoys a solid practical joke every now and again, like someone else I know? And when the white light comes on for me, and I can feel the deep rumbly voice before I can hear it:
You actually fell for the penny thing! I told everyone there was no way—but Bro, once it got rolling there was no way to really tactfully tell you, plus, it’s kind of a nice way to look at things, so we figured, “What’s the harm?”
There is a lot of fixation in AA, particularly in the early, formative stages, about figuring out the metaphor for one’s Higher Power. For some people, this involves coming up with an anthropomorphized version that appeals to them: George Burns, Morgan Freeman, Ernest Borgnine (maybe?); I’m personally hoping it’s someone more like Vince Vaughn; eternity anyplace sounds like a long time and if heaven is just like a really long meeting of the Luther League, even if you throw in a trip to Six Flags in St. Louis, not sure about my level of enthusiasm.
A chapter of the Big Book is dedicated to explaining how AA isn’t really religion, or to the extent it is, it’s the logical, science-y version of proto-agnosticism—not the revival tent version that Bill had lodged in his head. I would kind of include myself in this camp. I think the existence of a Higher Power would answer a lot of questions, but, to be honest, would probably raise even more. I have my issues with the “your Higher Power can be a doorknob,” formulation of Ebby’s thoughtful, “it can be your own conception of God.” I, personally, am not sure I could believe, or even say out loud that I came to believe that [my Higher Power] [insert “doorknob” here] could restore me to sanity.
But that’s the point. It’s less important to figure out who or what is the Higher Power and more important to figure out what that Higher Power can do for you. Because the only requirement imposed by the Steps or the Big Book about the nature of one’s Higher Power is that it is possible to believe that said Higher Power could “restore me to sanity.” Which maybe is a functional way to design or define a Higher Power. Or to ask the question backward:
What could help restore me to sanity?
Some formulations of a Higher Power might include the provision of tools that we might avail ourselves of to improve our position in life. In this view, the Higher Power might have designed an ecosystem that provides everyone with what they need, under certain conditions. The point of the exercise is to find some things that can be believed in, because ultimately, one must make the leap and believe that they can recover, that they can lead a life without drinking or using. That things will be okay if I let them. Things I do to lead a positive, happy life, well, those are manifestations of my Higher Power’s love for me.
Those all require a tremendous amount of faith, and it would be unrealistic to expect it would work perfectly on the first try or thirteen. One of the strong currents underpinning the Twelve Steps, and the Big Book generally, is that one must want to recover, one must want to do the work, one must want to change their life. And the horrible, frustrating, tragic thing is how hard it is to get alcoholics and addicts to that spot, where they “want” to do the work, where they think there is something worth saving.
That’s the foundational belief; that one’s own life is worth saving, worth the effort of resurrecting. From there, it’s just coming to believe that things can, and often will, get better. Sometimes suddenly. The real problem is that it’s pretty hard to tell an alcoholic what they need to believe; until they come to it themselves, until circumstances have eroded enough of life to create willingness. Until then, well, it’s probably pretty tough to take the leap of faith that recovery ultimately requires.
I really have no clue what my Higher Power could look like, what form it even takes. I have been developing a list of some things that my Higher Power can do, and that list gets longer every day. Most of the items on my list of Higher Power messengers are pretty enigmatic. In fact, it’s tough to discern any real message at all. But when I look at that list I see those things as being eccentric, but observable signs of love and attention. More a friendly pat on the head, “you’re headed in the right direction.”
I have no sense for what happens tomorrow or the weekend or next year or beyond that. That thought no longer fills me with quiet anxiety, the kind that burbles into a desire to uncork a bottle of wine eventually. I came to believe that there was a mysterious power, far greater than myself, that could not only restore me to sanity, but keep all of the crazy worlds spinning and the crazy strands of the Universe thrumming. All I have to do in that world is be myself and believe that if I do, the things that are supposed to happen will happen. That’s all I need to believe in to stay sober another day, to be restored to sanity.
That’s something I can definitely believe in.
Thanks (again) for your 'share'. I can't define or explain it, but something in your posts often resonates for me. Definitely helps this alcoholic.