Category: From AA Agnostica

Sleight of Hand; Slight on “Real” Inclusivity

By bob k

Thank the Lord (in a manner of speaking) for the wonderful liberals among the God-believers in Alcoholics Anonymous as I encountered them years ago. These delightful creatures were more interested in seeing me get sober than in coaxing me into a new relationship with the Almighty. Alcoholics Anonymous provides the narrowest of gates for some of us.  I remain genuinely grateful for the broad-minded folks who helped me to slither through.

The members of AA are a diverse group, of course. There were then and are now, many of a different ilk. The “Get God or die” proclaimers are alive and well and in most instances, they loudly vocalize their pronouncements of what PRECISELY needs to be done to get sober. As they see it, that involves suiting up for the “God could and would if he were sought” team.

The inimitable Joe C. of Toronto and I have more than once discussed AA’s decreasing inclusiveness over the past few decades. That unfortunate development has been closely tied to a resurgence of interest in our society’s now eighty-one year old text, and the spread of “Thumperism.”

Ten years ago, the late conference speaker Sandy Beach, anonymously penned a screed against atheists and agnostics in AA. In his “WHITE PAPER ON THE MATTER OF AA ATHEIST/AGNOSTIC GROUPS AND RELATED CONCERNS,” Mr B. let it be known that heathens could quietly take up membership in AA, but they needed to shut the Hell up about their non-conforming beliefs. That rambling discourse brought to mind the odd position taken up by the U.S. military regarding members of the LGBTQ community. “Please afford us the opportunity for plausible deniability. We’d like to go on pretending that you’re not even here.”

In “The ‘Don’t Tell’ Policy in AA” one of the finest essays ever to appear on this website, Roger C. looks at the similarity to AA in the U.S. military’s “Speak No Evil” stance.

Freethinkers in AA have been anything but silent in the twenty-first century. They are writing books, starting groups, and speaking out. The growth of the secular demographic in recent years has been remarkable. Closet atheists and agnostics have exited their armoires and are breathing the fresh air of free expression. Most recently, Zoom has brought the idea of non-religious AA to folks who otherwise could not have imagined such things.

Sorry, Sandy.

Of course, the fundies have been inspired to push back — hence the polarization.

But let’s return to the liberals. Those generous folks offered me a navigable path to sobriety. Forgive the cliches, but I was invited to replace the rejected God of my understanding with various G-O-D’s that included “Good Orderly Direction,” and “Group of Drunks.” Uncapitalized “higher powers” were offered for my consideration. The closest of my new friends made little effort to convert me.

Regarding my uncontrollable drinking, I was open to accepting the help of those who had overcome problems with alcohol that were similar to my own. I came to see a benefit in confession, restitution, helping others, and blending myself into the AA community. Earlier, I had come to a full acceptance that there is no path to moderate drinking for people like me and that quitting drinking on one’s own is a very tall order. The substitutions for God had not been presented to me as temporary measures, but many of my new friends were surprised that years of AA sobriety resulted in no alteration of my “Big Picture” worldview.

The Bigga Booka

The literature presents a different picture.

For the sake of brevity, I will bypass the 12 + 12 with its “Seven Deadly Sins” etc., to focus exclusively on the Bigga Booka, as my North Bay friend Lena likes to call the divinely-inspired source of all wisdom. The root of the popular “higher power” term is found in AA’s second step: “Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.” The liberals had told me that there were a lot of powers greater than me including alcohol. Employers, police, judges and wives were also mentioned.

It did not escape my notice that none of those “powers” come with capital “P’s.” Did any of these come with power sufficient to restore human beings to sanity? As it turns out, the somewhat liberal-sounding “Power greater” has a very brief shelf life. This temporary power is a mere place-holder – a set of training wheels shortly to be discarded. Those paying close attention were warned of this early in the book: “It was only a matter of being willing to believe in a Power (capital “P”) greater than myself. Nothing more was required of me to make my beginning. I saw that growth could start from that point.” (BB, p. 12, Bill’s Story)

On page 46, the pretense that “Power greater” and “God” are something different is dropped: “… it was impossible for any of us to fully define or comprehend that Power which is God.”

Presto Change-o

Magicians have some very cool names for their trickery – “prestidigitation,” “misdirection,” “legerdemain,” “hocus pocus,” “sleight of hand.” A distraction is created to disguise what’s really going on. While the left hand is doing something dramatic and eye-catching, the right hand engages in something sneaky. “Power greater” and “own conception of God” are left hand activities. The right hand is the Hand of God. It was there all along. In the literature, these issues are quite transparent. The “non-God” God option is a temporary measure – a single step onto Jacob’s ladder.

The agnostic, or atheist (God forbid), is expected to come around “sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly.” Look at “Our Southern Friend” Fitz, New York Number 3. The minister’s son had abandoned the religion of his childhood after finding it incompatible with his taste for hedonistic “sinning.” A mere half-hour after being visited by Bill and Hank, Fitz finds himself on his knees crying and praying, his “militant” atheism seemingly poofed away by the Grace of God.

(I am contemplating a lawsuit against the English department of the University of Toronto as I appear to have developed a very poor understanding of words like “militant.”)

Some of AA’s self-declared “militant atheists” were angry at God. Others such as Fitz were fearful of the divine wrath destined to come as retribution for his “sins of the flesh.” It was wishful thinking that perhaps the punishing God of his Christian upbringing was mythological. The mislabelers have contributed to the poor understanding of the “real” atheist and the educated agnostic in Alcoholics Anonymous circles.

The personal story of Bill’s book-producing business partner, Hank P., was called “The Unbeliever.” He too found himself bawling and praying to what he called a “Universal Power.” Although God was likely pleased by the capital letters, He may have found the mislabeling offensive, as He reversed Hank’s awakening and returned him to drinking less than five months after the Bigga Booka came to print.

Alcoholics Anonymous employs the magician’s chicanery although a word search of the sacred text reveals no “abracadabra’s.” They are implicit, I suppose.

My new AA friends had performed all manner of liberal-sounding misdirection. Most were sincere in their inclusiveness as they sought to change my drinking moreso than my philosophy. Their liberal talk is not backed up by the literature. The book is far more supportive of the fundamentalist’s position. “Get God or die.” “no human power,” etc.

The magician’s left hand holds up the “own conception” idea for the briefest time before we are presented with AA’s conception — the “real” view of what God is. He is omnipotent, benevolent, an Employer, a Father, a Director, a Manager, and a Him. We are suddenly smothered by an avalanche of “He’s” and “Him’s.” The female fundamentalist is forced to bite her lip and say, “It’s all just fine.”

There is a small number of non-believers in AA who think the literature is fine. These strange creatures largely hang their hats on a single line: “When, therefore, we speak to you of God, we mean your own conception of God.” (p. 47)

They put on blinders to what comes next, not even a paragraph later: “At the start this was all we needed to commence spiritual growth… Afterward, we found ourselves accepting many things which then seemed entirely out of reach... we had to begin somewhere.”

In a less kindly view, the clever subterfuge might be viewed as a “bait and switch.” The customer is “baited” by an attractive, advertised product that is unavailable. The customer is “baited” by an attractive, advertised product that is unavailable. Drawn to the store by the dishonest marketing of an unscrupulous retailer, prospective buyers are pressured by salespeople to consider higher priced items. In the world of commerce, consumer protection laws have criminalized the bait and switch. In the world of recovery, the little fraud is seen as helpful.

“But there is One who has all power – that One is God. May you find Him now!” (p. 59) Jeez! Why not just say that in the first place? Well at least we get to choose our own conception of God, right? … Right? … “Great Out Doors maybe?” No?

HEY!!! What happened to “Group of Drunks” and “Good Orderly Direction?”

The somewhat grumpy Bob Smith had been more honest. “God is God, young man,” he had told Clarence Snyder in 1938. Bill Wilson took a different tack of “getting them into the pews.” The savages’ belligerent defiance would quickiy melt away in the presence of God’s miracles, it was presumed.

This article will be offensive to some and it could have been more so; the “bait and switch” analogy could have been given precedence. Wikipedia refers to that as “fraud.” Rigorous honesty only goes so far, I suppose.

Speaking of deceitfulness, the time has come to reveal a little trickery of our own. Bobby Beach is bob k., and bob k. is Bobby Beach.

Some of you freaken suspected that.

Key Players in AA HistoryBob K has been something of an activist in the secular AA community. He has been one of the most prolific contributors to the websites AA Agnostica and AA Beyond Belief. He co-founded Whitby Freethinkers in 2013 and has made some efforts to support those who have started other nonreligious AA groups. In 2015, AA Agnostica published bob’s Key Players in AA History, a book that continues to sell well. Coming soon are a few other books, including “The Secret Diaries of Bill W.”

Articles by Bob K on AA Agnostica (those by Bobby Beach have a check mark – ✔):

And here are articles by Bob posted on the AA Beyond Belief website (again with a check mark – ✔ – for those by Bobby Beach):

 

The post Sleight of Hand; Slight on “Real” Inclusivity first appeared on AA Agnostica.

A Magnificent Game Changer

Chapter 2
Do Tell! Stories by Atheists and Agnostics in AA

By Doris A.

Like many, childhood was a fertile ground for becoming an alcoholic.

My mother had very serious problems with alcohol, binge drinking though her pregnancies and a good part of my childhood. While there were interesting and wonderful things about both of my parents, and childhood memories that still make me smile, there were serious problems in our home. Whether drunk or sober my mother, in the blink of an eye, became erratic and volatile, even violent at times. My dad was not as mercurial, but he was emotionally stunted; shame was his primary tool for parenting.

My mom got sober when I was 10; it was a gift to all of us, yet it did not bring peace and happiness to the family. Sobriety did not resolve my mother’s mental illness nor did it help her troubled marriage. Her enthusiasm for AA and her gift for “program talk” were often coupled with nutty behavior. It was confusing to say the least. By the time I left home I felt like I had gotten off the Titanic with a life raft full of holes.

The first time I drank I was twelve years old; I drank myself into a blackout. Surprisingly my drinking during high school was not all that dramatic. But once I left home to attend college I was off to races. I drank hard and I drank often. I felt liberated by alcohol; it was a psychic lubricant that provided a social ease I do not come by naturally.

But deep in a recess of my brain I knew I had a problem. My drinking had an edge and sloppiness to it, and my blackouts were frequent. I remember one morning in my third year of college waking up with a very severe hang-over. I had to be at school within an hour, so without missing a beat I poured a couple shots of vodka into my soda which I took on the bus to class. This was my “Houston we have a problem” moment; a thought I quickly tucked away in a mental file labeled “to be dealt with later”.

After graduation I had no idea what to do next. That year my parents had divorced. My father decided to move to another part of the country, with my younger sister in tow. My mom then literally packed everything she owned in her car, drove around the country aimlessly and then decided to live in a town not far from my father. I was accepted into graduate school but instead followed my family. It was a bit surreal.

Within a short time my mother was diagnosed with late stage cancer. I set aside thoughts of grad school or a professional job and instead worked in a tavern, drank with the bar flies and watched my mother die a horribly painful death. My drinking was rough that year, I was lost and confused, and then I felt orphaned.

Six months after my mother died I hit the reboot switch and moved to the coast. I settled in one of the nicest cities in the country and immediately it felt like home. I knew I could do better than working in a bar, and I wanted to slow down my drinking. Not ready to give it up, but I figured I could change the trajectory.

A doctoral dissertation called “Experiences of Atheists and Agnostics in AA” was recently submitted and it is based entirely on the book Do Tell. For more info click on the above image.

During the next several years I embedded myself in a social scene that was not about alcohol, hoping that through osmosis I would become a non-problem drinker. I found bright, interesting friends who preferred hiking or talking about books and politics over getting loaded. I met the man I would marry and spend 21 years with, and whom I loved dearly. I entered graduate school and started a career.

During this period I used smoke and mirrors to hide my problem. I was the one who went back to the kitchen for “more ice” and then poured a few more ounces of alcohol in my drink. I had half a bottle of wine before going out with people who rarely had more than a drink or two with dinner. I stopped in a bar for a drink on my way home from work or school. Garden variety alcoholic behavior.

My husband had no experience with alcoholics and was naive about all the tell-tale signs. But after we were married a year and bought our own home things changed. Within a matter of months I started drinking heavily, daily, and secretly. This went on for a year until one day I woke up, went to the phone book and called a drug and alcohol hotline. I was referred to a counselor who told me I needed to go into outpatient treatment and I needed to tell my husband. What followed were many years of trying to stay sober, not trying to stay sober, and everything in between. I never once denied being an alcoholic, but for reasons I don’t fully understand I could not totally surrender.

Shortly after the first call for help I started attending AA. A part of me, the part of me that is resilient and intuitive, knew from the beginning that I had no chance of success without the fellowship. But AA was full of land mines. The biggest problem at first was having to sit in a room hearing all the clichés and AA talk that I heard as a kid from my nutty mother. There was almost a PTSD quality to seeing all those “easy does it signs” on the wall and hearing people recite the Serenity Prayer.

Layered on this was the god talk in AA. By the time I entered the program I was an agnostic that wasn’t ready to be an atheist. The concept of spirituality seemed benign enough. But the idea of a god that would take an interest in relieving me of alcoholism while ignoring the unimaginable suffering of others seemed childish, and just plain wrong. I so badly needed other language to help me develop some type of road map, but it was hard to find. Being a non-believer in AA is not easy. However, I actually have more resentment toward treatment professionals who told me that if I didn’t get god and do the 12 steps as prescribed I would die. I am sure there are many reasons sobriety was so elusive, but being an atheist was not one of them.

Over the years I collected sober time, a few years here a few years there. Often it was a string of months. Some of the drinking periods were well hidden until there was some dramatic incident and the game was over for a while. I also added prescription drugs to the mix – painkillers and sedatives.

Although my sense of self became pretty fractured and compartmentalized, I still had the side of me that approximated normal. I was well-regarded professionally, I had many interests, and I had a stable seeming marriage as well as many personal relationships that mattered dearly to me. But my addiction had me by the throat and I acted in ways that still make me cringe to think about. I did crazy things in order to drink, was impaired at work, lied with the skill of a sociopath, acted out in a million other ways, and deeply hurt others.

By the time I hit my late 40s alcohol was taking a toll on all aspects of my life. Approximating normal was no longer easy. I was losing any margin of error. I was severely depressed and anxious and had no vision of being able to stop for good.

Around age 50 I was diagnosed with early stage cancer. Since watching my mother die from cancer in her fifties I had been scared of this for decades, but I was lucky that it was found in the nick of time. I elected to have chemotherapy and was provided with the best medical care imaginable. One would think that this would be the most obvious time to finally get sober. But it wasn’t. I drank a few times during the year of treatment. If chemotherapy hadn’t kicked my ass so hard I am sure I would have drank more.

About a month after being given a clean bill of health, I had one of those “fuck it” moments. Instead of going to work one morning I took a sedative and bought a bottle. I don’t remember much that day but later learned I had driven my car into the edge of a golf course, ran over a sprinkler system and then drove home.

For my husband this was the final straw. He asked me to leave the house or go to a 90 day treatment program. I didn’t know if I could survive another stay in treatment and reached out to family. My brother kindly offered to have me live with him and his wife to get myself sorted out. I packed a few bags and moved back across the country.

The year that followed was profoundly painful. I was demoralized beyond words, I was still a mess from chemotherapy and my heart was deeply broken. I did immerse myself in AA, got a sponsor, found a therapist and tried to cobble together a few friends. I drank a few times too. About a year after moving I went back to visit my husband to sort out our marriage. When I came back I shut myself in my room with large amounts of alcohol and drank for many days.

This was my bottom, but a divine intervention is not what saved me. What did were two people from the fellowship who showed up to help me get the professional care I needed. I had a circle of friends from AA who didn’t flinch. I had a compassionate and skilled therapist who was there with open arms to help. And I had some wee voice in my head that wanted to live.

It took a while for my life not to hurt so much. My husband asked for a divorce and then later remarried. It has taken a very long time to grieve all the losses that have resulted from my drinking. So much time was lost.

But today I can easily say that the gift of having real sobriety is broad and deep, and very tangible. I have gained emotional maturity and am sturdier inside. Life makes sense to me now and most days I feel engaged and content. When I am feeling or acting like a head case I know the things to do to get me back on track. I have better skills at managing my emotions and having honest relationship with others. I am still me, warts and all, but the dark passenger that lives inside of me has gotten very small. Self-destructive urges no longer have the keys to the car.

My alcoholism runs deep, and it is lethal. I am certain that I will always need to be an active member of AA. Having finally tapped into a small but real segment of AA that believes sobriety is possible without god has been a magnificent game changer. I am now more than ever inspired to do service work in the program, so that others like me can find a comfortable seat in the rooms of AA.

I have heard people say that they are grateful for being an alcoholic. I am not one of them. Next time around I would like to be more normal and also to be better at math. But alcohol and drug addiction were in the cards dealt to me. So like every other human being on the planet, all I can do is strive to make the most of my life, to be a half decent person and to love others. I am grateful for having a fellowship – my tribe – that offers me a solution, as we say, one day at a time.

Do Tell! [Front Cover]This is a chapter from the book: Do Tell! Stories by Atheists and Agnostics in AA.

The paperback version of Do Tell! is available at Amazon. It is also available via Amazon in Canada and the United Kingdom.

It can be purchased online in all eBook formats, including Kindle, Kobo and Nook and as an iBook for Macs and iPads.

The post A Magnificent Game Changer first appeared on AA Agnostica.

A Rewrite of Chapter 4 of the Big Book

In 2017 the book A Secular Sobriety was published. Written by Dale K, it contains a rewritten version of the first 164 pages of the Big Book. Here is a modern version of the fourth chapter, originally called We Agnostics.

By Dale K

Commentary: It’s difficult to articulate my feelings about the original Chapter 4. The chapter’s deceptive nature is quite repugnant. I could rant and rave, on and on. That might make me feel better, but my feelings are so negative that it would bring me down and you with me. Reading this chapter is the textual equivalent of watching “Reefer Madness.” One thing I’ve come to understand is this: When religious people read this, they believe it is spot on. Their opinion is the result of prejudice towards, and ignorance of, what it is to be agnostic or atheistic. Many of them, truly, believe they have the corner on righteousness all to themselves.

This chapter is, at best, a condescending charade. I find it to be very insulting and incompatible with any secular thinking. By using “We” in the title, it is insinuated that the authors are agnostic. That is so obviously untrue. The author is a Christian trying to save and convert agnostics. This is the part of the Big Book where their blatant proselytizing for god happens. Isn’t it odd that they would pretend to be agnostic for god? Attempting a conversion may be understandable, but their duplicity is detestable. I recommend that, if you read the original text, you read it with love in your heart, if possible. You must understand that it is a minefield for resentments.

* * *

For The Agnostic

IN THE PRECEDING chapters you have learned something of alcoholism. It is hoped the authors have made clear the distinction between the alcoholic and non-alcoholic. If, when you honestly want to, you find you cannot quit entirely, or if when drinking, you have little control over the amount you take, you are probably alcoholic. If that be the case, you may be suffering from an illness which only a spiritual or life-changing experience will conquer.

To one who is an atheist or agnostic such an experience is quite possible. To continue as you are would mean disaster. There is no such thing as a hopeless alcoholic. To be doomed to an alcoholic death or to live on a spiritual basis are not always easy alternatives to face.

But it isn’t so difficult. About half our original fellowship were of the secular type. At first some of us tried to avoid the issue, hoping against hope we were not true alcoholics. But after a while we had to face the fact that we must find a more loving basis of life—or else. Perhaps it is going to be that way with you. But cheer up, something like half of us were atheists or agnostics. Our experience shows that you need not be disconcerted.

If a mere code of ethics or a better philosophy of life were sufficient to overcome alcoholism, many of us would have recovered long ago. Merely intellectualizing such codes and philosophies is insufficient. The practical application of these principles is the key to success. By realigning your will to be more loving, and practicing this day by day, you will see how much nicer life and sobriety can be.

Lack of power, that was our dilemma. We had to find a power by which we could live, and it had to be a power greater than ourselves. This was obvious, but where and how were we to find this power?

Well, that’s exactly what this book is about. Its main object is to enable you to find a power greater than yourself which will help solve your problem. That means we have written a book which we believe to be spiritual, virtuous, principled and ethical. And it means, of course, that we are going to talk about god. This should not be a difficulty for agnostics. Accept that most people are religious and find their spirituality through a belief in gods. We should not be prejudiced about how anyone comes to this wonderful way of living. For atheists or agnostics, this power could be as simple as the person you would like to become or the fellowship within AA. Our only concern is the results.

We know how secular people may feel. We have shared an honest doubt and prejudice. Some of us have been violently anti-religious. To others, the word “god” brought up a particular idea with which someone had tried to impress upon them during childhood. We rejected this particular conception because it seemed inadequate. With that rejection we had abandoned the god idea entirely. We were bothered with the thought that dependence upon a supernatural power beyond ourselves was somewhat weak, even cowardly. We looked upon this world of warring individuals, warring theological systems, and inexplicable calamity, with deep skepticism. We looked askance at many individuals who claimed to be godly. How could a supernatural being have anything to do with it all? And who could comprehend a supreme being anyhow? Yet, at other moments, we found ourselves thinking, when enchanted by a starlit night, “The cosmos are so amazing!” There was a feeling of awe and wonder. We held on to that, knowing that we needed no god to be humbled by the immense power and enormous complexity of it all.

Yes, we of agnostic and religious temperaments have had negative thoughts, prejudices and experiences regarding one another. Let us make haste to reassure you. We found that as soon as both were able to lay aside prejudice and express even a willingness to believe in a power greater than ourselves, we commenced to get results, even though it was impossible for any of us, atheist or theist, to fully define or comprehend that power, which could be god, love, fellowship or whatever works for you.

Much to our relief, we discovered we did not need to consider another’s conception of a higher power. Our own conception was sufficient to make the approach and to effect a change in our thinking. As soon as we admitted the possible existence of a power greater than ourselves, we began to feel a new sense of power and direction, provided we took other simple steps. We found that these were not difficult terms. To us, the realm of love and selflessness is broad, roomy, all inclusive; never exclusive or forbidding to those who earnestly seek. It is open, we believe, to all persons.

When, therefore, this book uses the term “god” it means your own conception of a higher power. This also applies to other spiritual expressions which you find in this book. Do not let any prejudice you may have against spiritual terms deter you from honestly asking yourself what they mean to you. This was all we needed to commence spiritual growth, to effect our first conscious relation with a higher power as we understood it. Afterward, we found ourselves accepting many things which then seemed entirely out of reach. That was growth, but if we wished to grow we had to begin somewhere. So we used our own conception which may be unlimited.

We needed to ask ourselves but one short question. “Do I now believe, or am I even willing to believe, that there is a power greater than myself?” As soon as a person can say that they do believe, or is willing to believe, we emphatically assure them that they are on their way. It has been repeatedly proven among us that upon this simple cornerstone a wonderfully effective spiritual structure can be built. (Please be sure to read Appendix II on “Spiritual Experience.”)

That was great news for us if we thought spiritual principles were only for religious people. When people presented us with spiritual approaches, how frequently did we say, “That’s for religious people. It won’t work for me because I don’t believe in gods.” So it was comforting to learn that we could commence without religious beliefs.

Because of a misunderstanding of how spirituality could apply to secular people, we often found ourselves handicapped by obstinacy, sensitiveness, and unreasoning prejudice. Many of us have been so touchy that even casual reference to spiritual things made us bristle with antagonism. This sort of thinking had to be abandoned. Realizing that spirituality means nothing more than a profound new way of thinking about ourselves and others, we found no great difficulty in casting aside such feelings. Faced with alcoholic destruction, we soon became as open minded on these matters as we had tried to be on other questions. In this respect alcohol was a great persuader. It finally beat us into a state of reasonableness. Sometimes this was a tedious process; we hope no one else will be prejudiced for as long as some of us were.

The reader may still ask why they should believe in a power greater than themselves. We think there are good reasons. Let us have a look at some of them.

The practical individual of today is a stickler for facts and results. The twentieth century readily accepts scientific theories of all kinds, provided they are firmly grounded in fact. We have numerous theories, for example, about electricity. Everyone believes them without a murmur of doubt. Why this ready acceptance? Simply because, with the scientific method, it is possible to explain what we see, feel, direct, and use, because we have a reasonable assumption as a starting point.

Everybody nowadays, believes in scores of scientific ideas for which there is good evidence, but no perfect visual proof. Quite often, science demonstrates that visual evidence may not tell a complete story. It is being constantly revealed, as we study the material world, that outward appearances are not always inward reality. To illustrate:

The prosaic steel girder is a mass of electrons whirling around each other at incredible speed. These tiny bodies are governed by precise laws, and these laws hold true throughout the material world. Science tells us so. We have no reason to doubt it. Therefore, when the illogical assumption is suggested that underneath the material world and life as we see it, there is an all powerful, guiding, creative intelligence, right there our scientific understanding comes to the surface and we simply reaffirm to ourselves that there is no scientific evidence of it. We read wordy books and indulge in windy arguments, knowing this universe needs no god to explain it. For some who believe in god, these contentions that life originated out of nothing would indicate that life means nothing and proceeds nowhere. We agnostics understand that this explanation of the origins of life “means nothing” of the sort. There is much meaning in life and where it proceeds depends on the behavior we choose today.

We agnostics and atheists chose to believe our human intelligence is never the last word, the alpha and omega, the beginning and end of all. It is merely a tool we use to discover new truths.

We, who have traveled the path of sobriety, beg you to lay aside prejudice, even against organized religion. We have learned that whatever the human frailties of various faiths may be, those faiths have given purpose and direction to millions. All people, believers and non-believers, feel they have a logical idea of what life is all about. Just as we wish to be accepted, we should accept others personal ideas regarding spirituality. All people seek a degree of stability, happiness and usefulness. The path we may choose is not the important thing. The most important thing is our mutual goal of sobriety.

Sometimes we looked at the human defects of people and used their shortcomings as a basis of wholesale condemnation. We talked of intolerance, while we were intolerant ourselves. We missed the reality and the beauty of the forest because we were diverted by the ugliness of some of the trees. It is time to give the loving side of life a fair hearing.

In our personal stories you will find a wide variation in the way each teller approaches and conceives of the power which is greater than themselves. Whether we agree with a particular approach or conception seems to make little difference. Experience has taught us that these are matters about which, for our purpose, we need not be worried. They are questions for each individual to settle for themselves.

On one proposition, however, these men and women are strikingly agreed. Every one of them has gained access to, and believes in, a power greater than themselves. This power has in each case accomplished the seemingly impossible. As a celebrated American figure put it, “Let’s look at the record.”

Here are thousands of men and women, worldly indeed. They flatly declare that since they have come to believe in a power greater than themselves, to take a certain attitude towards that power, and to do certain simple things, there has been a revolutionary change in their way of living and thinking. In the face of collapse and despair, they found that a new power, peace, happiness, and sense of direction flowed into them. This happened soon after they wholeheartedly met a few simple requirements. Once confused and baffled by the seeming futility of existence, they show the underlying reasons why they were making heavy going of life. Leaving aside the drink question, they tell why living was so unsatisfactory. They show how change came over them. When many hundreds of people are able to say that the consciousness of the presence of a power greater than themselves is today the most important fact of their lives, they present a powerful reason why one should consider a power greater than themselves.

This world of ours has made more progress in the last century than in all the millenniums which went before. Almost everyone knows the reason. Students of ancient history tell us that the intellect of people in those days was equal to the best of today. Yet in ancient times progress was painfully slow. The spirit of modern scientific inquiry, research and invention was almost unknown. People’s minds were fettered by superstition, tradition, and all sorts of fixed ideas. Some of the contemporaries of Columbus thought a round earth preposterous. Others came near putting Galileo to death for his astronomical heresies.

Today, it is unnecessary to burden ourselves with fixed ideas like the ancients did. Nonetheless, even in the present century, American newspapers were afraid to print an account of the Wright brothers’ first successful flight at Kitty Hawk. Had not all efforts at flight failed before? Did not Professor Langley’s flying machine go to the bottom of the Potomac River? Was it not true that the best mathematical minds had proved people could never fly? Had not religious people said god had reserved this privilege to the birds? Only thirty years later the conquest of the air was almost an old story and airplane travel was in full swing.

But in most fields our generation has witnessed complete liberation of our thinking. Show any longshoreman a Sunday supplement describing a proposal to explore the moon by means of a rocket and he will say, “I bet they do it – maybe not so long either.” Is not our age characterized by the ease with which we discard old ideas for new, by the complete readiness with which we throw away the theory or gadget which does not work for something new which does?

We had to ask ourselves why we shouldn’t apply to our problems this same readiness to change our point of view. We were having trouble with personal relationships, we couldn’t control our emotional natures, we were a prey to misery and depression, we couldn’t make a living, we had a feeling of uselessness, we were full of fear, we were unhappy, we couldn’t seem to be of real help to other people – was not a basic solution of these bedevilments more important than whether we should see newsreels of lunar flight? Of course it was.

When we saw others solve their problems by a simple reliance upon spiritual principles, we had to stop doubting the power of love. Our ideas did not work. But the higher power idea did.

The Wright brothers’ faith that they could build a machine which would fly was the mainspring of their accomplishment. Without that, nothing could have happened. We agnostics and atheists were sticking to the idea that self-sufficiency would solve our problems. When others showed us that “group-sufficiency” worked with them, we began to understand why it took both of the Wright brothers to succeed in their accomplishment.

Logic is great stuff. We liked it. We still like it. We have the power to reason, to examine the evidence of our senses, and to draw conclusions. That is one of humankind’s magnificent attributes. We agnostically inclined would not feel satisfied with a proposal which does not lend itself to reasonable approach and interpretation. Hence we are at pains to tell why we think our ideas are reasonable, why we think it sane and logical, why we say our former thinking was soft and mushy when we tried to figure everything out by ourselves. It takes teamwork and fellowship to come up with all these wonderful new ideas for living a good and sober life.

When we became alcoholics, crushed by a self-imposed crisis we could not postpone or evade, we didn’t have to decide the issue of god. There is no need to debate the distinctions of theism and atheism. Whatever your beliefs are regarding this matter, they are sufficient starting points to build a good, strong sobriety.

Arrived at this point, we were squarely confronted with the question of whether the fellowship of Alcoholics Anonymous would work for us. We couldn’t duck the issue. Some of us had already walked far over the bridge of reason toward the desired shore of sobriety. The outlines and promises of a new way of living had brought lustre to tired eyes and fresh courage to flagging spirits. Friendly hands had stretched out in welcome. We were grateful that reason had brought us so far. With an open mind, we could easily step ashore. As agnostics, atheists and freethinkers, we lean heavily on reason for support. Combining our ability to reason with the serenity that accompanies love and peace, we receive great support in this last mile.

That was natural, but let us think a little more closely. Without knowing it, we may have been brought to where we stand by a certain kind of faith. For did we not believe in our own reasoning? Did we not have confidence in our ability to think? What was that but a sort of faith in ourselves? Yes, we had been faithful, abjectly faithful to our own ability to reason. So, in a small way, we have the common ground of faith with religious people. We discovered that faith in reason had been involved all the time!

We found that, although we were not worshippers, we were admirers. What a state of mental goose-flesh the word “worship” can bring on! Had we not, variously, admired people, sentiment, things, money, and ourselves? And then, with a better motive, had we not admirably beheld the sunset, the sea, or a flower? Who of us had not loved something or somebody? How much of these feelings, these loves, these admirations, have to do with pure reason? Sometimes, little or nothing, we saw at last. Were not these things the tissue out of which our lives were constructed? Did not these feelings, after all, determine the course of our existence? It was impossible to say we had no capacity for faith, or love, or admiration. In one form or another we had been living by these things often and, sometimes, by little else.

Imagine life without some kind of faith! Were nothing left but pure reason, it wouldn’t be much of a life. But we believed in life – of course we did. We can prove life just as we can prove a straight line is the shortest distance between two points. Could we still say the whole thing was nothing but a mass of electrons, created out of nothing, meaning nothing, whirling on to a destiny of nothingness? Of course we could. But, even the electrons themselves seemed more intelligent than that. At least, so the chemist said.

Hence, we see that reason isn’t everything. Neither is reason, as some of us use it, entirely dependable. Having said that, there is still no reason (pun intended) to throw it out. Reason emanates from our best minds. The people that proved people could never fly were wrong. At the time, they just didn’t understand all the physical science.

Yet we had been seeing another kind of flight, a spiritual liberation in this world, people who rose above their problems. They said love made these things possible, and we only smiled. We had seen spiritual release, but liked to tell ourselves it wasn’t true.

Actually we were fooling ourselves, for deep down in every man, woman, and child, is the fundamental idea of love. It may be obscured by calamity, by pomp, by admiration of other things, but in some form or other it is there. For love is a power greater than ourselves, and demonstrations of that power in human lives, are facts as old as human existence itself.

We finally saw that faith in some kind of goodwill was a part of our make-up, just as much as the feelings we have for a friend. Sometimes we had to search fearlessly, but it was there. It was as much a fact as we were. We found this great reality deep down within us. In the last analysis it is only there that love may be found. It was so with us.

We can only clear the ground a bit. If our testimony helps sweep away prejudice, enables you to think honestly, encourages you to search diligently within yourself, then, if you wish, you can join us on this broad journey of sobriety. With this attitude you cannot fail. The consciousness of your beliefs are sure to come to you.

* * *

Commentary: The last two pages of the original version of this chapter describe one alcoholic’s conversion to a belief in god. I believe it is, completely, irrelevant for secular people. I will not be including it here. I have no desire to change his story, but it has no place in a chapter entitled “We Agnostics.” I congratulate him for finding sobriety. We should be grateful for all that find sobriety. Each person must find their own way. Regardless of the fact that a deity doesn’t fit into an atheist’s life, we should understand and appreciate all paths to sobriety. My big hope is that religious people, as well, will congratulate us and be understanding and grateful for our sobriety.

A Secular SobrietyDale K. has lived in North Carolina since 2018. He grew up in Michigan and attended 12 years of Catholic school, but it didn’t “take.” He decided he was an atheist at the age of 13. He moved to South Florida in 1974. He first came to AA in 1980 and had his last drink in 1981. In the mid ‘80s a secular meeting was started in his home town of Boca Raton. He attended that meeting exclusively until he moved up the coast in 2010.

There he found traditional AA to be just like he had left it. In 2013 he discovered that AA had published a new edition of the Big Book in 2001. He was quick to read it and see the changes. Realizing there were none made to the “first 164 pages,” he decided it was time to make the changes himself. With that, he began writing his book, A Secular Sobriety. It was first published in June 2017 and has surpassed 1000 sales. It can be purchased on Amazon. A Secular Sobriety: Including a secular version of the first 164 pages of the Big Book.

For a review of the book, click here: A Secular Sobriety – Review.

 

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The Big Book: An Updated Chapter 4

What if the fourth chapter of the Big Book ,”We Agnostics” had actually been written by atheists and agnostics?

By John S
Originally published in September, 2014 on Secular AA Kansas City

Introduction

I wrote what you are about to read about a month after starting a secular AA meeting in 2014 with my friend Jim C. That year was an exciting time of transformation. You see, for the previous 25 years, the Big Book was the center of my AA experience. However, after realizing I was an atheist, I looked at the Big Book and my entire time in AA with fresh eyes, and to make sense of this new perspective, I started a blog that later became the website for my new homegroup. This piece was part of a series I called “The Atheist Big Book Study.” In that series, I rewrote Chapter Four in a way that was more acceptable to my atheistic viewpoint while retaining the original vernacular from 1939.

Writing this was part of my healing from coming out as an atheist in AA, which was a painful and challenging time when I no longer felt welcome or accepted. The Big Book, which I thought so vital to my recovery, became Bill W.’s metaphoric boom-a-rang “that turned in its flight and all but cut me to ribbons.” People started to use the book to put me in my place, to show me how I was wrong. Now, sadly, I realize that it was always the case. The only difference is that I am now aware of that fact.

That awareness is evidence of how much I have changed. My new homegroup, We Agnostics Kansas City, is now six years old, and during the last six years, I’ve seen hundreds of people get sober without ever reading the Big Book. These people have confirmed my view that we should build on the work of our founders, not try to replicate it. Keep what works in AA, and discard the unnecessary baggage that only serves to confuse people or to divide them into opposing camps.

* * *

In the preceding chapters you have learned something of alcoholism. We hope we have made clear the distinction between the alcoholic and the non-alcoholic. If, when you honestly want to, you find you cannot quit entirely, or if when drinking, you have little control over the amount you take, you are probably alcoholic. If that is the case, you may be suffering from an illness which we believe only an entire psychic change will conquer.

Earlier in this book, this change was described primarily with spiritual terminology which may lead one to believe that recovery is out of reach for those of us with an atheist or agnostic worldview. Happily, we found this to be an erroneous conclusion. The principles outlined in this volume translate easily into secular language, and our psychic change is just as real to us as the spiritual experience is to those who believe in God.

As first described by Doctor Carl Jung, our experiences were in the nature of huge emotional rearrangements and displacements. The ideas, emotions and attitudes which were once the guiding force of our lives, were cast to one side and replaced with an entirely new set of conceptions and motives. Our experience shows that this is possible for all alcoholics regardless of their belief system.

We need help

If a mere code of morals or a better philosophy of life were sufficient to overcome alcoholism, many of us would have recovered long ago. But we found that such codes and philosophies did not save us, no matter how much we tried. We could wish to be moral, we could wish to be philosophically comforted, in fact, we could will these things with all our might, but the needed power wasn’t there. We needed help.

Our own individual resources were insufficient to free us from the trap we created for ourselves. We could not do it alone, that was obvious. But where and how were we to find help?

Though we respect and honor the experiences of our more religious members, we agnostics and atheists do not believe this help comes from God. However, we find no conflict with those who choose to define their experience in spiritual terms. We share the believer’s humbling admission of powerlessness over alcohol and we recognize that we must seek help from a power that is greater than ourselves. For many of us who are agnostic or atheist, this power comes from the combined experience of our fellow alcoholics who preceded us in recovery.

Removing obstacles to recovery

Some of us were bothered with the thought that asking for help was a weakness. We valued self-sufficiency and we held a deep distrust toward other people. We looked askance at those who claimed to have all the answers and who knew with certainty what was best for us.

Therefore, we often found ourselves handicapped by obstinacy, sensitiveness, and unreasoning prejudice. In fact, many of us have been so touchy that even the most casual reference that we may need help caused us to bristle with antagonism. This sort of thinking had to be abandoned.

Though some of us resisted, we found no great difficulty in casting aside such feelings. When faced with alcoholic destruction, we soon became open minded and willing to accept help. In this respect alcohol was a great persuader. It finally beat us into a state of reasonableness. Sometimes this was a tedious process; we hope no one else will remain prejudiced for as long as some of us were.

Many of us were also skeptical of the idea that people with our very illness could be of any help to us at all. Let us reassure you that as soon as we were able to let go of this prejudice and express even a willingness to believe that we could be helped, we commenced to get results. We became empowered, provided we took other simple steps which were not difficult as long as we adopted the right attitude.

Our program of recovery is broad, roomy, all inclusive; never exclusive or forbidding. It is open, we believe, to everyone. We need ask ourselves but one short question. “Do I now believe, or am I even willing to believe, that I can find help in AA? As soon as one says they believe, or is willing to believe, we emphatically assure them that they are on their way. It has been repeatedly proven among us that upon this simple cornerstone a wonderfully effective structure can be built.

Why seek help in AA?

Atheist and agnostic readers may still ask why they should seek help in Alcoholics Anonymous. We think there is good reason. As agnostics and atheists we hold the view that our ideas should be informed by logic and reason. We believe truth is best discerned through observation, experience and evidence. What possible logic would lead us to seek help from a group of drunks?

Most of us have tried a variety of methods over a long period of time in an attempt to gain some degree of control over our drinking, and each attempt was met with failure. Some of us tried to stop drinking alcohol completely only to find that in this too we failed. This sad state of affairs brought us to complete desperation and a realization that we needed help. It did not satisfy us when told that we required spiritual help or that we had to believe in an unseen God. It was important to us that our sobriety be grounded in reality.

Here before us in AA we can observe many thousands of men and women who were once just as hopeless as we were, but they are helping each other not only to stay sober, but also with other problems often made more acute by drinking. We can attend meetings of Alcoholics Anonymous and watch with our own eyes as others find recovery and recreate their lives. As we listen to other alcoholics, we realize that we share a common problem, but more importantly we have found a solution in AA.

Through direct experience we have learned that together with other alcoholics we can achieve what we could never have done on our own. We have tapped into a power outside of ourselves and greater than ourselves that many of us identify as the power of good that is generated from one alcoholic helping another. We may never know how this works or how effective it is at addressing the problem of alcoholism as a whole, but we do know that it works for us, and the support we provide one another in Alcoholics Anonymous is very real.

John S. has been sober since July 20, 1988, and spends much of his free time on the AA Beyond Belief podcast, which he has been doing now for five years. The podcast and helping start an AA group for atheists and agnostics in his hometown of Kansas City have been among his most rewarding experiences since he began his journey.

 

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How Dare You – An Open Letter to AA Trustees

This is an edited version of the “Open Letter” which was sent to the AA Trustees on August 3, 2020.[1]

By Paul W

Introduction

Alcoholics Anonymous has lost sight of its purpose, of its mission. Yes, its members and backers rightly praise the institution and its good work. Yes, AA does help people to place their alcoholism in remission. Unfortunately, the core purpose of Alcoholics Anonymous is gone… or is it?

AA’s Preamble begins, “Alcoholics Anonymous is a fellowship of men and women who share their experience, strength and hope with each other that they may solve their common problem and help others to recover from alcoholism.”

Does AA really seek to help all who suffer from alcoholism?

Or, does it want to help only those who are, or will become, theists? If AA is for all, why the heavy theistic approach? Why the plethora of references to God, directly or through euphemisms (Him, He, Power, Higher Power)? If AA is spiritual, not religious, why the clear difficulty in defining, explaining, and laying out examples of “spiritual” without a religious tone? And, why the literal blizzard of God references in Alcoholics Anonymous?

This and more leads to, How Dare You…

  • continue to claim that Alcoholics Anonymous is “Spiritual, not Religious” in the face of significant evidence to the contrary.

  • ignore the numerous United States (State and Federal) court rulings that AA is religious – and the Canadian Human Rights Tribunals which have or were ready to rule likewise.

  • abandon the growing population of alcoholics who might have been “saved” because you, Corporate AA, insist on ignoring the thousands of people who have no religious beliefs.[2]

AA’s Religious Nature

Historical

AA owes much to the Christian Oxford Group. AA also has strong ties to religious personages and organizations and “people of (religious) faith.” AA was born of religious experiences, sudden revelations, bright lights, prayers, and finding God.

Bill Wilson and Dr. Bob Smith leap to mind. Bill’s writings clearly indicate his religiosity. Co-founder, Dr. Bob’s practice of making novitiates pray on their knees and his writing that a newcomer “must surrender himself absolutely to God” and that he “must have devotions every morning … prayer and some reading of the Bible.” All this points directly to religiosity.[3]

In Bill Wilson’s book, Alcoholics Anonymous Comes of Age, reverence is given to Dr. Samuel M. Shoemaker, Episcopal minister, Father Ed Dowling, S.J.[4], and Sister Ignatia, Sisters of Charity.

Atheists and agnostics have been ignored, disguised, or presented in a manner so as to be easily mistaken for theists. Hank P. and Jim B. are prime examples. Both were part of the original membership and were responsible for the modifying phrase, “as we understood Him” being added to “God” in Steps 3 and 11. On page 17 of Alcoholics Anonymous Comes of Age, Bill wrote, “A newcomer named Jimmy B., who like Henry [aka Hank] was an ex-salesman and former atheist.” This is misleading, as Jim B remained an atheist for his whole life.[5]

The “Big Book”

The premier publication, Alcoholics Anonymous[6] (“Big Book”), is filled with “God” often enough that any claim of AA being “not religious” is specious.[7] The book, Alcoholics Anonymous gives no clear evidence of how “the program”[8] works for those in the increasing secular population. Basically, it is up to the non-theists to “work things out” for themselves. Corporate AA offers no help or encouragement.

“God” and euphemisms for a god are ubiquitous in the Big Book. So much so that a reader who is without a god can only understand the program through a Churchillian effort. No assistance is offered by Corporate AA. Non-theists are on their own.

Need Examples?

Believe it or not, the following are just a few examples of the unassisted work a non-theist is confronted with. (All page references are to Alcoholics Anonymous.)

Chapter 2, “There Is a Solution”. “… the simple kit of spiritual tools” which later turn out to be the (Godly) Twelve Steps (page 25).[9]

Chapter 4, “We Agnostics”[10]. “And it means, of course that we are going to talk about God” (page 45). This sentence turns out to be a proper indication of the rest of the book and the program.[8]

“When, therefore, we speak to you of God, we mean your own conception of God” (page 47). It is a far stretch of imagination to picture a non-theist going through the program trying to translate “Bill’s words” and all statements of “God” into secular concepts and language. Clearly, AA is not a (non-theistic) “spiritual” program.

“… as we see it, there is an All Powerful, Guiding, Creative Intelligence” (page 49).

“Actually, we were fooling ourselves, for deep down in every man, woman, and child, is the fundamental idea of God” (page 55, emphasis added). This is an unabashed claim that a God exists and everyone knows it, even if buried deep in the subconscious. These are the thoughts of a man convinced that everyone will come to accepting God. Obviously AA is a theistic program, based on a God of the Ten Commandments. Bill Wilson, and AA itself, hold tightly to the hope and belief that all will “Come to Believe.”

“God restored us all to our right minds” (page 57). A reader must conclude that to be in ones “right mind” is to be a theist. This passage holds that atheists, agnostics, Free-Thinkers, Humanists, and the like are not in their right minds. How dare you claim that AA is open to all?

Chapter 5, “How It Works”. outlines the “program” of Alcoholics Anonymous, it introduces the Twelve Steps. Part of this chapter, especially the listing of the Twelve Steps, is read aloud at many meetings open to the public, as “How it Works.” It is reasonable to assume this chapter is the official program of AA, a theistic program.

Writing about the scourge of alcoholism Bill Wilson states, “Without help it is too much for us. But there is One who has all power – that One is God. May you find Him now” (page 59). Clearly, AA expects its members to “find God”, not to remain non-theistic.

“We had to have God’s help” (page 62). In AA’s mind, those without a god cannot gain sobriety. On the same page is, “…we could at last abandon ourselves utterly to Him.” This relates directly to AA’s Step 3, “Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him” (italics in the original). AA holds that God is essential for sobriety. AA is theistic, is religious.

On page 63 we find “the Third Step prayer.” Prayer is a religious act, offering oneself to a god is a religious act. Strange for an organization which claims to be “spiritual, not religious.”

“We asked God to mold our ideas and help us to live up to them” (page 69). Another prayer, another religious act.[11]

Chapter 6, “Into Action”. On page 80 we are told of a man who finds that it is better to follow the program “… than to stand before his Creator guilty of …” Judgement after death is a religious belief or truth. It is “religious.”

A miraculous happening is reported on page 84, “… that God is doing for us what we could not do for ourselves.” A miracle performed by a god is religious.

Chapter 7, “Working With Others”. On page 93 those doing Twelfth Step work (proselytizing) are instructed, “Stress the spiritual feature freely. If the man be agnostic or atheist, make it emphatic that he does not have to agree with your conception of God. He can choose any conception he likes, provided it makes sense to him. The main thing is that he be willing to believe in a Power greater than himself and that he live by spiritual principles” (italics in original).

AA holds that one must have a God of some sort (“Power” is capitalized). AA has been unable to give examples or definitions of power which are not insulting. As for “spiritual principles,” AA has been woefully poor at explaining them in a non-religious fashion.

There are many more direct references to God and to prayer (a religious activity) in Alcoholics Anonymous. They are easy to find.

A Thought Experiment

Ask yourselves:

  1. What are the qualities, characteristics of religion or religiousness that Alcoholics Anonymous lacks?

  2. What are the indicators which demonstrate AA’s spirituality that are devoid of religious connotations?

  3. Why does the plethora of references to God, Him, Higher Power, etc., not indicate a religious nature of Alcoholics Anonymous? (Don’t religions have a god?)

  4. How is the practice of group prayers at AA meetings and functions not a sign of religiousness?

  5. How is the passing of General Service Conference Advisory Actions “freezing” Bill Wilson’s words in Alcoholics Anonymous and Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions not an act of declaring infallibility?

Conclusion

Trustees, please be honest. At least admit that, while AA is not a specific religion, it is religious, to the extent that it relies on a male God, most likely Christian.

  • There is no doubt that AA supports the writings of its founder, Bill Wilson. Consequently, when he wrote a letter mistakenly stating that the Lord’s Prayer is not just a Christian Prayer[12] AA was accepting the inclusion of this prayer in its meetings.

  • There is no doubt that AA practices religious rituals at its meetings, opening and closing with prayers.

  • That Corporate AA does not even ask that meetings and groups identifying as AA not include religious rituals in its meetings and affairs.

  • That you still allow the delisting of secular meetings or refusals to list in the first place.

  • That you studiously ignore Bill Wilson’s permissive words expressed in Alcoholics Anonymous Comes of Age.[13]

  • And, finally that you are reluctant to make any serious corrections to the “program” and related literature, especially the “Big Book,” for financial reasons.[6] This reluctance extends even to ignoring contradictory comments and erroneous statements, especially those made by Bill Wilson.

Forget about correcting the “Big Book.” It is a valuable, historical volume, much like medical books and papers from the 1930s and earlier. Be courageous and embark on writing a new book, one which retains Bill Wilson’s basic thoughts and modern thoughts which include all who suffer from alcoholism. Or, simply state that AA is for theists and others need not apply. I suspect that there is an alcoholic or two or more available to be the Martin Luther for AA.

Notes:

[1] The trustees have responsibility for three incorporated entities; The General Service Board of Alcoholics Anonymous, Inc., Alcoholics Anonymous World Services, Inc., and Alcoholics Anonymous Grapevine, Inc. Trustees of AA refers to both Class A and Class B Trustees.

[2] Pew Research has predicted that the “not-religious” population of the United States (Atheists, Agnostics, Free-Thinkers, Humanists, etc., and “Nones”) will equal and even surpass the population identifying as “Christian” in a few years.

[3] Dr. Bob and the Good Oldtimers, page 131. This book is “General Service Conference-approved literature.”

[4] Father Dowling, S.J. pointed out the similarity of the Twelve Steps to the Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius, the founder of the Jesuit order. (Alcoholics Anonymous Comes of Age, page 253.)

[5] Jim B (Burwell) was responsible for getting AA started in Baltimore, Philadelphia, Washington D.C. and San Diego. Jim’s story is in Alcoholics Anonymous, (pages 219-231) titled “The Vicious Cycle.” Unfortunately, editing appears to have obscured his life-long atheism. Jim is also featured in Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, as Ed in Tradition Three, where the impression that he came to believe in God is made. Why Bill Wilson changed Jim’s name to Ed is unknown.

[6] I call the book, Alcoholics Anonymous, “premier” because of the reverence it is afforded and its monetary value to AA. It is the largest seller of official AA publications. This alone is a massive obstacle to serious thoughts about changes to or corrections of the “Big Book” text. (AA’s net literature sales represent 55% of its income, whereas member and group contributions are 41% of income, with investment income being 4%. AA’s net profit – reported as “Excess of Income” – for that year was just short of $4-million. This is from a recent Annual Report from Owen J. Flanagan and Company, Certified Public Accountants.) “Follow the money” is true, even in AA.

[7] The fact that “God” is so prevalent throughout AA literature and practices, coupled with Corporate AA’s inability to explain “spiritual” without a deity, are clear indication of AA’s religious nature.

[8] The word “program” refers to the Twelve Steps and well as the Twelve Traditions and the Twelve Concepts. The focus here is on the Twelve Steps outlined in “How It Works” in Alcoholics Anonymous and elaborated on in Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions. Both publications carry the AA imprimatur, “This is A.A. General Service Conference-approved literature” and have been protected from change or revision by General Service Conference Advisory Actions.

[9] Alcoholics Anonymous has been woefully unable to define “spiritual” in a clear and concise manner. After years of denying the need for non-theistic literature on secular spirituality, AA made two attempts. The first was for literature on spiritual experiences which was to include stories from atheists and agnostics. This failed completely. The second attempt resulted in the pamphlet, “Many Paths to Spirituality,” which was a disappointment. Finally, Alcoholics Anonymous World Services, Inc. obtained permission to print the United Kingdom’s pamphlet, “The God Word.” Its success is questionable.

[10] Except for most personal stories, the majority of the “Big Book” was written by Bill Wilson. (He even wrote “To Wives” even though Lois volunteered to do so.) Bill wrote the chapter, “We Agnostics” alone. There is no evidence that this chapter was prepared in collaboration with other agnostics, atheists, or non-theists. Bill actually dares to speak for all non-theists. His lack of understanding is clear in the “Conference-approved” book, Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, where, on page 28, Bill Wilson states, “Religion says the existence of God can be proved; the agnostic says it can’t be proved; and the atheist claims proof of the nonexistence of God.” This last statement is absolutely false. The word “atheist” indicates those who live a-theistically; without a god. This one sentence has resulted in many AA theistic members having unwarranted negative opinions of atheists.

[11] Additionally, four of AA’s Twelve Steps involve prayers or religious acts.

Step 5, “Admitted to God to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.”

Step 6, “Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.” (Uncovered and listed in Step Four.)

Step 7, “Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.”

Step 11, “Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understood Him, praying only for the knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.”

[12] Ignoring the fact that Jesus originated that prayer. See the New Testament; Matthew 6: 9-13 and Luke 11: 2-4.

[13] Alcoholics Anonymous Comes of Age (AACoA) is “General Service Conference-approved literature.” It was published in 18 years after Alcoholics Anonymous. In AACoA, Bill Wilson, quotes the long form of Tradition Three and then states, “This means that these two or three alcoholics could try for sobriety in any way they liked. They could disagree with any or all of A.A.’s principles and still call themselves an A.A. group.” Recall that at the time of AACoA, “principles” referred to the Twelve Steps and the Twelve Traditions. Put simply, Bill Wilson gave cart blanch to groups of alcoholics to write their own, secular Steps (“any way they liked”). In a word, all that God stuff is unnecessary.

Paul has been a member of AA since 1989. He is comfortable as a nontheist and identifies as an atheist. Among the AA many service positions Paul has held are General Service Representative and District Committee Member. He has spoken at AA Area functions about the lack of literature for nonbelievers and has been a supporter of recognizing nontheists as full members of AA. Before retirement, he was a consultant with an international professional services firm where he specialized in education and organizational behavior. Paul and his wife live in New Jersey, she a Christian (of her own definition) and he an atheist. They have six children (50% atheists), six grandchildren, and one great-grandchild.

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Carrying the Message to the Nonbeliever

Chapter 1
Do Tell! Stories by Atheists and Agnostics in AA

By Nell Z.

“The first time I came into an AA meeting, I felt right at home.”

I have heard this shared at group level time and time again. I can imagine the sensation of peace and relief that this discovery of belonging must bring for the alcoholic who immediately feels “at home”. Unfortunately, this was not my experience.

My name is Nell, I am an alcoholic, and the first time I came into an AA meeting I felt like I had to squeeze past God to get through the door.

To read more of today’s article, click here: Carrying the Message to the Nonbeliever.

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Finding Humanist Spirituality in AA

 By Chad Minteer

I grew up as a Jehovah’s Witness and stayed until I was almost 30, about the time I started on my recovery path.  I was a good little boy and young adult, studious and well spoken, and I quickly made progress as I reached out for privileges and responsibilities. I had no idea then that so many of those behaviors of people pleasing, finding worth in accomplishments and external accolades, perfectionism, and workaholism were due to growing up in alcoholic dysfunction. My Dad was an alcoholic who left us and the religion when I was little. (He has now been sober for more than 25 years and we have a great relationship.)

My parents divorced when I was 6. My Mom was a single parent until she married another alcoholic when I was 11. He was a belligerent domineering drunk. When I was a teenager and young adult, it was my religion that saved me from that. Being a “spiritual” person formed a core part of my identity. But by the time I came into AA, overloaded with commitments, no idea what self-care meant, in a broken marriage I felt I couldn’t leave, and in the early stages of serious alcoholism myself, I was completely disillusioned with my own religious belief system and my experiences within that religious community, especially when it came to dealing with my family and relationship problems.

When I started AA, I was neck-deep in comparative religion, Eastern and Western philosophy, and all kinds of academic pursuits related to theology, philosophy, psychology, and sociology – all the things I wasn’t allowed to explore growing up. I was in the process of deconstructing all of my former beliefs, trying to get behind and beyond the intense feelings of guilt and shame that I was experiencing as I found myself unable to believe, trying to detach from all the things I used to do as a believer and not realizing how much loss I was experiencing, and finally embracing the dissonance and the questioning and discarding certainty.

I became a heretic, an apostate, according to my former religion. I wore the label proudly, in the mood of Ambrose Bierce in The Devil’s Dictionary: “Apostate: a leech who, having penetrated the shell of a turtle only to find that the creature has long been dead, deems it expedient to form a new attachment to a fresh turtle.” I didn’t want a fresh turtle, I wanted to know what turtles were made of and whether there was anything real beyond more dead turtles. When I left my former religion, I never seriously considered joining some other religion, and I didn’t gravitate towards any “anti” group of former members of the one I had left. I also didn’t feel like a joiner with secular humanist groups or the more committed anti-religion atheists. I found AA plenty tolerant and open, though a few individuals could get a tad preachy for my liking. I mostly ignored them, recognizing in them much that seemed familiar from the thought world I had just left.

I brought a flippant, judgmental, but also intensely curious and serious energy into my AA recovery journey. I wasn’t even aware yet of the grief and loss I was about to go through leaving the worldview and community that I was raised in. The religious family trauma that happened then and continues to happen now is a mainstay of why I need recovery and the recovery community. It’s the ground I walk on, the air I breathe. So keeping AA open, welcoming, tolerant, and loving to all believers and unbelievers is important to me.

At the time I was coming into AA, words like “spiritual” were just… fraught. Loaded. There was a valence on them, a charge. Today they might be called “trigger” words. They were slippery. They meant too many different things. So, when I thought, and when I talked, I avoided them. I had heard a quote around that time by Wittgenstein: “The limits of my language mean the limits of my world.” I took that to mean that if I wanted to think beyond the boundaries of the little world I had been raised in, I needed to expand my language, and use different words than I was used to using to say what I meant. (I didn’t know that Wittgenstein might have meant that if you can’t say anything about something because it’s beyond language, then say nothing, because saying anything might just be nonsense.)

I needed to say what was worth saying in such a way that the completely uninitiated unbeliever and the devout believer would understand me. I didn’t realize then that I wasn’t actually doing that for other people, I was doing that for me. I needed to get to the heart of the matter with why AA worked for some people and not for others, because clearly (to me) that couldn’t be “God” in any conventional sense, unless I accepted that God was arbitrary and inconsistent and almost passive-aggressive and opaque. I didn’t accept that.

If there was some reality out there that some people referred to as “God” in the practice of the program of Alcoholics Anonymous, I wanted to be able to describe it and think about it in specific ways that didn’t need the extra ingredient “God”. I still had plenty of awe and wonder even so. It was at this time I discovered the book The Spirituality of Imperfection, by Ernest Kurtz and Katherine Ketcham, and that book made it possible for me to work the 12 Steps, including the ones with “God” in them, with a sponsor, and that changed my life.

When I listened to others, I did a lot of translating. That made me work harder to find meaning for myself, to pay attention to and honor the person’s experience as they shared, or to relate the deeper meaning or intent or principle that was being expressed to some other concept that made more sense for me. It became more and more clear to me that much of the religious language that people use is just shorthand for our shared, lived, human experience. It can be a way for people to express themselves in a way they think others will understand. I was healed from some of my loss and religious pain by getting other believers’ perspectives, because it showed me that many paths and many options were available, both within a given belief system, and outside of it.

I love the word spiritual, even though it’s a term I had to redefine for myself, and it’s a term that some of my friends in humanist circles dislike. Here’s what spiritual currently means to me as a mystical atheist, or whatever I am.

  • Connection with others based on honesty, openness, vulnerability, and mutual respect. To me, this is the heart of recovery. All the actions, all the friendships, all the community, everything works better when it’s coming from a place of openness and honesty. Getting real. Going deeper. This reminds me, constantly, that there’s something beyond me, whether that means beyond my ego and the stories I tell myself, somewhere deeper within my own consciousness and my own being; beyond my own individual understanding and resources and wisdom; or beyond my own denial, wishful thinking, or skewed picture of reality towards something more real, more whole, more accurate, more objective out there. That feeling of connectedness, and the results of actions that come from practicing it in my life, I will gladly call that spiritual.

  • Perennial cultural wisdom and the truth of experience. Recovery samples ‘the wisdom of the ages’ and sages right next to the wisdom of John, and Cathy, and Judy, and Dennis – or whoever happens to be there. The cultural wisdom of lived experience keeps recycling itself in settings where people famously use the word ‘God’ in one sentence and the word ‘fuck’ in the next. My experience in recovery constantly reinforces to me that this wisdom is not found exclusively in religious texts or movements, as I was taught growing up – but neither is it found exclusively outside of these sources, as I thought when I was leaving mine. Religion and religious beliefs work for some people. They just don’t work for me anymore, not in the same way. But hearing the truth of my life out of someone else’s mouth, that deep recognition and identification, and becoming aware of options and context and perspectives that I wasn’t able to get to all on my own – that I will gladly call spiritual, even if it’s purely psychological, purely social. Man is a social animal, and it turns out that wisdom can be found around other people, even a group of drunks.

  • Awareness of finiteness, limitation, temporality, and mortality. “Life on life’s terms” seems to me the best brief encapsulation of this. Hearing thousands of shares at hundreds of recovery meetings reminds me of the shared human condition. I am not helpless or hopeless, nor am I unique. I am like other people. And I am not in control of everything. Some people call this state of mind “humility” but that is also a loaded word for me. Sometimes this kind of awareness is a cause of childlike wonder and curiosity, openness, gentleness. Sometimes it’s terrifying, like when someone learns they have cancer. Sometimes it’s frustrating, annoying, disappointing. Sometimes it brings fear and anger and the desire to escape. But at the end of the day, this is what makes us human, this is what makes us more like each other than not, and this is the basis for compassion as well as an appreciation for beauty, for good, for joy, for serenity.

  • Human qualities of the heart, such as honesty, hope, courage, integrity, willingness, forgiveness, perseverance, and compassion. All of the best of human nature can be found in the human stories in the rooms, right alongside the worst. Our best and highest selves are always available, always something to reach for, to aspire to. To me they’re actually nearer the surface in a real place with real people having real struggles. As Leonard Cohen sang it, “There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in.”

That’s mostly what I mean by spiritual experience or spiritual energy. I’ve also come to appreciate that all the “profane” ordinary things count too – nature, exercise, sports, nutrition, and so many other things that keep us relatively healthy and whole.

Once, after a particularly dark period in my life, in sobriety, I heard a voice say clearly and distinctly “you are stronger than you think.” I’m not one for hearing voices. It wasn’t God. It was my own inner resources, the ‘god within’, a part of my psyche. But it was still a spiritual experience. Recovery and everything that has come into my life since starting it have helped me become more and more aware of my own precious worth, and my own abilities and responsibilities. It’s up to me to apply what I’ve learned, ask for help, and do my best to create the life and world that I want to have for myself. It’s up to me. But I’m not alone. Recovery has helped me know that I can do it, that I am doing it. That’s a spiritual awakening, a coming into the fullness of life that I didn’t think was possible when I got here.

Thank god. Or as George Carlin used to say, “Thank Joe.”

Chad Minteer got sober in Twin Falls and Jerome, Idaho. He’s an aspiring writer and part-time blogger, when he’s not doing his day job managing mobile GIS software development for mosquito control field operations. He identifies as a member of Alcoholics Anonymous, but also is at home in Al-Anon, Adult Children of Alcoholics (ACA), and Codependents Anonymous (CODA).

Chad writes a recovery and travel blog at www.recoveringallofme.com, covering unpopular emotions like shame and anger, heterodox recovery, and any book, event, group, or program that supports free thought and emotional freedom connected with recovery. You can contact him through his website or at [email protected]. He’d be happy to consider covering your event or reviewing your book and writing about it or publishing your blog article on similar topics.

The featured image for today’s article is a photo taken by Robin J Ramage in Port Dover, Ontario.

 

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Recognizing 15 Years of Sobriety

By David Bohl
Originally Posted on the author’s website on August 22, 2020

Today I celebrate an anniversary of 15 years of sobriety from alcohol. I cannot state any revelations at this milestone, except to say that I’ve diligently worked over the 15 years to increase the protective factors in my life that combat a chronic brain disease. I’ve never ceased to see what I have as something that I will be cured from because I know it’s a progressive and fatal disease – as an addiction specialist I’ve seen first-hand that addiction kills and not just its victims. It kills families, it robs children of parents and parents of children. It’s as deadly as any virus – if not more deadly.

Over all these years in recovery, I’ve seen attitudes about addiction change very little and that perhaps pains me the most as I celebrate sober years. There’s still so much shame surrounding addiction and there’s even shame surrounding recovery. It’s interesting because as much as I want to celebrate it, I want to also rebel against having to consider myself “recovered” from something that the society tells me was somehow my fault. Because that’s how we still think of addiction – at least majority of us. As something that you bring on to yourself because of a flaw in your character or lack of solid moral values.

To me that kind of thinking is nonsense, but I can’t get angry about it any more because that’s not productive. I can only work towards society changing those attitudes by sharing my story and showing you that, yes, you too can recover and lead a successful, happy life.

My story isn’t that shocking for those of us who struggled with addiction. I got sober in my 40s, after a medical incident, started with acute detoxification, residential treatment to stabilize, IOP for 24 sessions, then continued through connecting and staying connected with like-minded individuals who I trusted shared my wellness goals and helped to hold me accountable – all the while investigating causes and conditions, most notably environmental/ cognitive ones (including stopping smoking tobacco 11 years ago) of addiction.

I didn’t find god or that spiritual Higher Power as I was instructed to do in the rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous, and that searching was one of the darker sides of my recovery. Feeling less-than, and even ashamed of my lack of spiritual connection made me doubt my recovery more times that I care to count, until I finally realized that I did have a Higher Power all along and it was not the one suggested by Big Book advocates or old-timers in meetings.

My Higher Power is simply Reality.

For me, Reality meant that I was honest about my diseases and that I understood that it would kill me if I didn’t take it seriously and diligently pursued recovery. I like to say that I pursue Reality relentlessly – with more fervour and energy that I’ve ever given my addiction. This is the only way to do it – my obsession with recovery has to always be stronger than my obsession to numb Reality used to be.

Is Reality always pleasant? Of course not. Of course there are times when I’m exhausted and feeling like I just need a break – but a break from what? I used to take breaks all the time and then it got so confusing that I could no longer function. I couldn’t live a day without taking a drink, couldn’t be social without it, couldn’t relax without it, couldn’t think about it not being in my life. It was everything to me and it was destroying me.

Fifteen years later, I know that I was just running away from what was in front of me all along, which is my own life and my own Reality. I will not stop chasing it, believing in it. And I think I can do all that for the duration of my chronic brain disease – for the rest of my life that is.

David B. Bohl, author of the memoir Parallel Universes: The Story of Rebirth, is an independent addiction consultant who fully understands the challenges faced by so many who seek to escape from, or drown their pain through, external means. His story offers hope to those struggling with the reality of everyday life in today’s increasingly stressful world.

Through his private practice substance use disorder consulting business, Beacon Confidential LLC, David provides independent professional consultation, strategic planning, motivation and engagement, care coordination, recovery management and monitoring, and advocacy services to individuals, families, and organizations struggling with substance use issues and disorders.

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A Soul Sighting

By Dale K.

I’m not talking about the soul they say will never die and go to Heaven to be reunited with the dear departed.

No, I’m talking about the kind that Billy Joel sings of in his album, River of Dreams. “It’s gonna get dark, it’s gonna get cold … You gotta get tough but that ain’t enough … It’s all about soul.”

As a young man, I spent 30 months in the combat zone off the coast of Vietnam. Some of the time, it was little more than a party. Other times, the reality of war was personal and the peril was close enough to touch. For my troubles, I came home with a mostly empty seabag and PTSD. I was adrift in a world that denigrated veterans and held me to a standard that I could not reach. The PTSD seemed mild and, to a degree, quite manageable with counseling. I tended to avoid aggressive men. I preferred the company of gentle ones and women. I wasn’t exactly sure why. I recognized it as nothing more than a personal preference. It was just part of the essence that is me. It seemed to be just a part of my soul.

In the mid-seventies I was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder and prescribed Valium. I was happy to abuse my prescription and, after a while, the doctor refused to prescribe it any longer. Several years later, the anxiety was out of control so I sought counseling. After hearing about how much I drank (I only told her about half the truth), the therapist told me I needed to stop drinking for 60 days before I could continue the sessions. It was recommended that I go to AA.

It took many months of on and off drinking to understand that alcohol was exacerbating my anxiety. It was this realization that persuaded me to stop drinking for good. My solution had become my problem. With abstinence, my life improved considerably. By the time those 60 days of sobriety rolled around, I no longer felt the need for a therapist. There were problems to resolve, but I was learning how to face them sober. Eventually, my anxiety was replaced with serenity and that has allowed me to have a beautiful life in sobriety. I raised two wonderful daughters that have never known their dad to drink. I ran my own business for 22 years before retiring in 2011. Yes, there were a couple of divorces, but I overcame the heartache and learned from those, too.

I say all this to give you the back story. Now, I’ll fast forward a bit to the summer of 2019. Something happened that brought an old memory that I had buried for 50 years into the light. It terrified me and my PTSD went through the roof. I began to avoid others. When I did leave the house, I was hyper-vigilant, always guarding my six, agitated, staying as far away from others as possible and fleeing when the threat bested me. It seemed I was always in a state of “fight or flight.” My AA meetings were a little different. I knew these people. They weren’t as threatening, but I could still sense that I was pulling away from them. Let’s just say I was social distancing before social distancing was cool.

While at home, I found myself running the same thoughts through my mind over and over with no resolve. I was losing sleep. Usually I sleep like a rock for 7-8 hours. Now, I felt lucky to get 5-6 hours and it was always interrupted. I knew I needed help and the VA provided me with a therapist. One thing she told me early on is that my mind totally erased the memory because it was protecting me. At that time, I couldn’t cope with it. I recalled it now because I’m better equipped to manage it and I’ll be ok. They say that a mind is a terrible thing to waste. Apparently, it’s also an incredible survival tool!

For the last five months, I’ve been self-isolating because of the pandemic. As much as I empathize with those who are suffering because of it, it has brought me some comfort. When I go to the grocery store others are avoiding me! What? They’re doing what I’ve been doing for months. The stress of going out in public was reduced to a very manageable level. This gave me the opportunity to relax and decompress. With that, I was able to think clearer and engage in more thoughtfulness towards myself.

While about a third of people are experiencing depression and/or anxiety because of COVID-19, I’m finding an old friend … serenity. How I accomplished this was by heeding the advice that was being given to me. I attended my weekly therapy sessions with enthusiasm and undertook a lot of self-reflection in-between. I stayed connected to my AA friends and the very large family I come from via Zoom meetings. I ate well. That not only included lots of fruits and veggies, but ice cream for my soul. I forced myself to stay in bed if I woke early. I paid close attention to my feelings. I didn’t judge or deny them. I just felt and considered them. I focused on my breath when anxiety rose its ugly head. I stayed busy with renovations to my home. I checked in on my neighbor and helped her when I could. I built a bird feeder and took hikes so I can connect with a very soothing Mother Nature. I rode my motorcycle a lot because it demands that I only focus on what is in front of me. It’s like a form of meditation for me.

All of this grounding helps me stay in the present. It’s only in the present that I can look at everything objectively. I’m not that person that was traumatized 50 years ago. Today I have strengths that I honed with therapy, the rooms of AA, my intact sobriety, the classroom of life and the love of my family. I can use those strengths to defeat or, at least, minimize the effects of trauma. I was a fairly well adjusted guy (some would argue this) before that memory stole my soul. Today, that memory is just a memory. I was hoping it would fade away, but I don’t believe that will happen anymore. Fortunately, it is losing its power over my present. In my 39 years of sobriety I’ve proven to myself that I’m better and stronger than this. I’ll not only prevail, but grow from this adversity!

Sometime, in the not-too-distant future, life will evolve to some kind of new normal. The guy that will greet that future will be an even better version of the me that I’ve known in sobriety. It was dark and cold, but I was tough because I found my soul! Isn’t that what it’s all about?

A Secular SobrietyDale K. has lived in North Carolina since 2018. He grew up in Michigan and attended 12 years of Catholic school, but it didn’t “take.” He decided he was an atheist at the age of 13. He moved to South Florida in 1974. He first came to AA in 1980 and had his last drink in 1981. In the mid ‘80s a secular meeting was started in his home town of Boca Raton. He attended that meeting exclusively until he moved up the coast in 2010.

There he found traditional AA to be just like he had left it. In 2013 he discovered that AA had published a new edition of the Big Book in 2001. He was quick to read it and see the changes. Realizing there were none made to the “first 164 pages,” he decided it was time to make the changes himself. With that, he began writing his book, A Secular Sobriety. It was first published in June 2017 and has surpassed 1000 sales. It can be purchased on Amazon. A Secular Sobriety: Including a secular version of the first 164 pages of the Big Book.

The featured image for today’s article is a photo taken by Robin J Ramage in Port Dover, Ontario.

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What is a person’s best self?

By Lisa M. Najavits, PhD

What is a person’s best self? There are different possible versions of you, and life experiences can bring out better or worse versions. Addiction brings out worse versions. So does trauma – painful events such as child abuse, war, natural disasters and the many other tragedies that humans are subject to. Recovery brings out your best self.

There’s a wonderful exercise that originated in school systems about 15 years ago. It asks students to imagine their “hoped for” self and their “dreaded self” one year out. Students who imagined a “hoped for” self in terms of their academic work in the next school year and had specific strategies to achieve it did better in school months later than those who had the positive vision alone (Oyserman et al., 2004). Vision plus action leads to one’s best self.

I discovered this exercise while working on a book I had long wanted to write: a self-help book for addiction and/or trauma. I’ve worked in the field of addiction and trauma since the 1990s as a professor developing new models to help improve care and conducting clinical trials, and also as a therapist. It’s been incredibly moving to see the field grow and also to directly witness the inspiring recovery of so many people and also the dedicated work of so many different supports, both professional and peer-led.

The models I’ve developed, including Finding Your Best Self, are agnostic, while also strongly supporting the value of 12-step and other self-help groups. They have strong idealism and optimism, striving to build a sense of hope, but are not religious: Seeking Safety (L. M. Najavits, 2002b), A Woman’s Path to Recovery (L. M. Najavits, 2002a), Creating Change (L. M. Najavits, in press), and Finding Your Best Self (Lisa M. Najavits, 2019). All emphasize a public health perspective, aiming to offer accessible, low-cost options that can be done by anyone regardless of training or experience. The only requirement is a desire to help those who are struggling with addiction or trauma.

Finding Your Best Self was designed as self-help and can also be conducted by any peer, sponsor, counselor or professional, in group or individual format. It has 36 short chapters, each just a few pages. Examples are:

  • How do people change?
  • The world is your school
  • Listen to your behavior
  • Wish versus reality
  • Possible selves
  • The language of trauma and addiction
  • Social pain;
  • Why trauma and addiction go together
  • Body and biology
  • The culture of silence
  • Tip the scales recovery plan
  • Every child is a detective
  • How to survive a relapse
  • Identity– how you view yourself
  • Perception– how others view you
  • The decision to grow
  • Dark feelings (rage, hatred, revenge, bitterness)
  • Create a healing image
  • How others can help—family, friends, partners, sponsors, counselors.

Chapters can be done in any order as each is independent of the others. Each chapter has  exercises, self-reflection questions, and a Recovery Voices section in which someone with lived experience writes about how the chapter topic relates to their own recovery. The people who contributed to Recovery Voices include a wide array of addictions (substance and behavioral), trauma types, and diverse gender and cultural backgrounds. One woman is quoted below, from the chapter Self-Forgiveness.

* * *

Bridget – “I was carrying a lock in my heart”

“I’m a survivor of child sexual and emotional abuse. I’ve been addicted to food, spending, relationships, and emotional chaos. Self-forgiveness has been the hardest part of my recovery. It’s also the last piece I’ve put into place. What I’d say to somebody else is, know that you can do this; it can happen. But you really have to open your heart. And it may happen in such small steps that it’s hard to feel it. One thing I like about this chapter is how it says you need to let yourself feel the forgiveness. That’s the hardest part. I got it intellectually a whole lot sooner than I got it emotionally. I could feel it toward other people – I was a great caretaker – but I couldn’t feel it for myself. I tried a lot of things – religion, affirmations, positive psychology. I tried that exercise where you imagine how you’d talk kindly to a young child. I even tried to channel myself toward social change to help others, and that was a good thing, but it didn’t get to the bottom line, which is can I sit with myself? Can I be here with me? I know that when I draw that last breath, I want to be okay with me.

My dad was vicious. He was a working-class drunk – the devaluing, beating-you-down stuff. The thing I really relate to in other trauma survivors is the self-hatred, the total venom toward myself, like I don’t have enough worth to be on the planet. And with addiction, no matter what type it is, whether it’s alcohol, drugs, or any other behavior, you feel like people can always point a finger and say, ‘Well, you’re doing it to yourself.’ There’s so much stigma and blame, and you internalize that and think, ‘Yes, I’m the problem here.’ So the starting point for me was just to be aware of the negativity I was perpetrating on myself. And what I tell other people and what I try to remember myself is that it’s never too late to get out of hell. It’s never too late. No matter what age you are, even if you’re 80 years old, you can still get to the peace that comes with self-forgiveness and that’s so enormous.”

* * *

I’ll be doing a webinar on Finding Your Best Self September 10, 2020 and also welcome questions at any time at [email protected].

Lisa Najavits, PhD is an adjunct professor, University of Massachusetts Medical School, and was on the faculty of Harvard Medical School for 25 years and a research psychologist at Veterans Affairs Boston for 12 years. Her major areas of work are addiction, trauma, co-morbidity, community-based care, development of new models, and clinical trials research. She is author of over 190 professional publications and various books. She was president of the Society of Addiction Psychology of the American Psychological Association; and is on various advisory boards including the Journal of Traumatic Stress; the Journal of Gambling Studies; the Journal of Dual Diagnosis, and Psychological Trauma. Her awards include the 1997 Young Professional Award of the International Society for Traumatic Stress Studies; the 1998 Early Career Contribution Award of the Society for Psychotherapy Research; the 2004 Emerging Leadership Award of the American Psychological Association Committee on Women; and the 2009 Betty Ford Award of the Addiction Medical Education and Research Association. She is a licensed psychologist in Massachusetts and conducts a therapy practice.

 

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