A.A. also made me very much aware, by constant repetition, of my freedom of choice, and this is the human faculty of willpower. As time has gone on in sobriety, I have been offered and have used the opportunity to learn more about humanity by learning more about myself. I now realize that when I first said at an A.A. meeting, “My name is Tom and I am an alcoholic,” I was expressing the first truth I had known about myself. Think of the spirituality in such statements. My name tells me that I am a human being; the fact that I can know it, think about it, and communicate it reinforces my humanity and makes me aware and excited that I am!
This, then, became the opening to the spiritual world. With the guidance of the program and the encouragement and examples within the Fellowship, I could begin to find out about myself and be prepared to accept what I found. I learned in the Fellowship that if others could accept me and love me as I was, then I should love myself as I was—not for what I was, but for what I could become. So I have learned a little about my mind and about my will and about my emotions and passions.
I have learned that I can be a good human being, although an imperfect one; that, when I consciously live in the real world (sanity), each good day helps to counterbalance my past.
My religion did not give me A.A. A.A. gave me greater strength in my religion. The simple contrast between active alcoholism and active sobriety has helped me to seek, to listen, and to apply the good principles of living, and I am rewarded with much more excitement and joy than was mine before A.A. sobriety. By accepting this sobriety gratefully, as a gift, and using it willingly, I have become aware of other gifts available to me as a human being. To get the benefits, I need only ask and then use.
This is the crux of the program and the crux of living: acceptance and action.
The gift of understanding has allowed the simple messages from my parents, my teachers, and my church to take on new meaning and soundness. With the gift of serenity, I am ready and willing to accept what God permits to happen to me; with the gift of courage, to take action to change the things I can for the good of myself and others. The gift of wisdom has been given to me so that in personal relationships I may act intelligently and with love or, as it has also been expressed, with competence and compassion.
Now I am trying to grasp the idea of living “inside out.” The Big Book, “As Bill Sees It—the A.A. Way of Life,” “24 Hours a Day,” the meetings, the experiences, the consciousness of change in myself, in my thinking, my choices, and my habits—all of these are spiritual. There is the spirituality of the A.A. way of life, which simply makes us aware of our individual inner resources. There is no materialism in A.A.—just spirituality. If we take care of our inner needs, our other needs will be provided for.
I have come to believe that the gift of sobriety is what gives value and dignity to my life. It is this that I have to share, and it grows as it is shared.
El Cerrito, California
HOW FORTUNATE WE ARE
I call Kinlochard my spiritual home. It is a wee hamlet nestling in a valley between the hills and on the banks of Loch Ard. I never tire of gazing across it to the forest on the far side, with its hundreds of shades of green, reflected in the surface of the loch. Peregrine falcons are nesting on the crags above, and the heron slowly wings its way up the loch to its nest in the huge trees on a small island. The swans, mallard, and grayback ducks share the banks with sandpipers and coots and a few fishermen, casting for trout. Sometimes I can see, far up the hill, a stag and a hind crossing a clearing and, if I am lucky, a couple of otters playing on the rocks beside the loch. Peace prevails.
When I first discovered Kinlochard, I was on one of my prolonged binges. Even then, the beauty and tranquility got through the alcoholic haze. Now that I have sobriety, I try to visit this place of rest twice a year and marvel at the majesty of our Creator. I see no beauty in art. Sculpture and architecture are man-made and cannot rival the Creator’s work. How can we hope to better the Master who taught us? How fortunate we alcoholics are to have a malady which compels us to seek recovery through the spiritual.
Egremont, England
A.A. IS A PHILOSOPHY
A religion, properly, is of divine origin; governs the person in his relationship with his Higher Power; and promises its rewards and punishments after death. A philosophy is of human origin; governs the person in his relationship with his fellowman; and promises its rewards and punishments during life. A.A., I submit, is a philosophy. If we alcoholics follow the philosophy of A.A., we can regain an understanding of our several religions.
Maryland
IN HIS OWN INDIVIDUAL RIGHT
Spirituality is an awakening—or is it all the loose ends woven together into a mellow fabric? It’s understanding—or is it all the knowledge one need ever know? It’s freedom—if you consider fear slavery. It’s confidence—or is it the belief that a higher power will see you through any storm or gale? It’s adhering to the dictates of your conscience—or is it a deep, genuine, living concern for the people and the planet? It’s peace of mind in the face of adversity. It’s a keen and sharpened desire for survival.
It’s a man or a woman. It’s gratitude for every happenstance of the past that brought you to a moment of justice. It’s the joy of being a young man in a young world. It’s awareness—or is it realization of one’s capabilities and limitations? It’s concentration—or is it an easy sensing of the universe? It’s seeing a mystical power for good in each and every human being. It’s patience in the face of stupidity. It’s feeling that you want to knock somebody’s head off—and walking away instead. It’s when you’re down past your last dime, and you know you still have something that money can’t buy. It’s wearing dungarees that feel like a tuxedo. It’s wanting to go home, yet being there. It’s a rocket ride that goes far beyond the world your eye can see. It’s looking at something that superficially is ugly, but radiates beauty. It’s a majestic skyline or a western desert. It’s a young child. It’s seeing a caterpillar turn into a butterfly. It’s the awareness that survival is a savage fight between you and yourself. It’s a magnetic pull toward those who are down and out. It’s knowing that even the bad times are good.
Don’t look back—you haven’t seen anything yet.
When people look at you and wonder what’s with you, the look in your eyes will answer them: “Because I can cut it!”
The singular thing that is spirituality cannot be given to a fellow- man by word of mouth. If every man is to have it, then every man must earn it, in his own way, by his own hand, stamped by the seal of himself, in his own individual right
New York, New York
THE OTHER SIDE
During a meeting one day, I remarked that I was just tickled to death with this A.A. program—all but the spiritual side of it.
After the meeting, another member came up to me and said, “I liked that remark you made—about how you like the program—all but the spiritual part of it. We’ve got a little time. Why don’t we talk about the other side of it?”
That ended the conversation.
Modesto, California
| SPIRITUAL EXPERIENCES | 2 |
| It is certain that all recipients of spiritual experiences declare for their reality. The best evidence of that reality is in the subsequent fruits. Those who receive these gifts of grace are very much changed people, almost invariably for the better. | |
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