AA Beyond Belief, October 2016

--c..-ctober, 2016

,t\ Beyond Bel1

Dear Reader,

Welcome to the e-zine version of AA Beyond Belief. The articles presented in this issue were originally published on our website during the month of October, 2016. We hope that by presenting these stories in this format, provides you with additional options and more flexibility. You can download this entire ezine and print it to take with you. Soon, we will also publish these stories on Kindle for reading on your e-book device, tablet or smart phone.

October was an exciting month with many of us eagerly anticipating the upcoming convention in Austin, WAAFT IAAC II to be held next month in Austin Texas. The Grapevine also released an issue featuring stories by agnostics and atheists in AA in October, and the Executive Editor of the Grapevine will be attending WAAFT IAAC where she will participate on the literature panel and host a workshop on how to write articles for the Grapevine.

Thank you very much for your support and generosity. AA Beyond Belief is self-supporting by you, our readers and we are truly grateful that we have a forum like this, where we can all come together to share our experience, strength and hope.

Sincerely,

The Editors

Contents

Spirituality and Agnosticism, by Galen T. ......................................................................................................... 4 An Old-timer, A Newcomer, Yet Neither, by Jennifer C. .................................................................................. 9 My Case Against Spirituality, by Richard H ..................................................................................................... 16 Our Grapevine, by John S................................................................................................................................ 20 Renaming WAAFT IAAC, by Pat N. .................................................................................................................. 24 Journaling, by Thomas B ................................................................................................................................. 26 Buddha and Bill, by Somen.............................................................................................................................. 30

Spirituality and Agnosticism

By Galen T.

Originally published on October 2, 2016 at aabyeondbelief.com When I arrived for my 28 day stay in rehab and introduced myself with a brief autobiographical sketch, I was heralded by the other patients as somebody who surely had the “spirituality stuff� down pat. This seemed a reasonable assumption. After all, I possessed two graduate degrees in theology and had just completed 10 years as the ordained minister of a mainline Protestant congregation.

But the confidence my fellow patients had in my spiritual stature was ill-founded. Yes, I could make my way through the Greek New Testament and was current with the latest biblical scholarship. I could explicate the Nicene Creed. In seminary, I had specialized in systematic theology and mastered the principal theologians of the modern era. My preaching sparkled with erudition. In other words, I had a well-trained and finely tuned theological mind. But as l entered the chaos of early recovery all this knowledge about God, absent any relationship with God, evaporated like a puff of smoke. I entered sobriety in a spiritual vacuum.

Upon leaving rehab I resigned from my pastorate and, eventually, from the ministry. I was required to leave my congregation immediately upon release from rehab and to have no further contact with its members. The problem was not my alcoholism but that I was an alcoholic who had engaged in conduct unbecoming a minister by having overlapping affairs with women in the congregation. My denomination

did not “defrock” me, but it was soon apparent that no other congregation, no matter how down on its luck, was ready to welcome me.

A secretive drinker and philanderer, I was now publicly unmasked and disgraced. I was numb with shame and there was only one place I could go where I might find a measure of acceptance.

I plunged into Alcoholics Anonymous immediately, following all the usual suggestions. I went to four or five meetings a week, obtained and used a sponsor, completed the steps, made coffee, and chaired meetings. Despite this level of activity, I remained spiritual moribund and after five years I relapsed on prescription medications. So, I reset my sobriety clock and maintained the same level of involvement in the fellowship. Today I am still active in AA and sober for 20 years.

I wish I could say that my relapse sparked a spiritual rejuvenation, but it did not. I was naturally aware of the spiritual principles embedded in AA’s program of recovery and I gave them a thorough mental workout. In other words, I had not fundamentally changed since my years in the ministry. I still mistook thinking for participating. I fancied myself a connoisseur of elevated moral ideals. I entertained compassionate thoughts about others but did nothing to cultivate actual compassion. I felt no need for spiritual grounding in anything beyond myself. The mechanisms of suppression and repression operated so smoothly that I was rarely conscious of feeling anything other than episodic irritation with people who disappointed my unarticulated expectations of them.

encounter with grave suffering.

This spiritual blankness prevailed in ironic juxtaposition with an intellectual preoccupation with the meaning of life. This paralytic posture survived hundreds of meetings, multiple encounters with the 12 Steps and the kind observations of friends that nice guy though I might be, I was “blocked.” I might have endured in this woeful condition unto death but for an

Three years ago, I sank into a severe depression. This was by no means my first such episode, but it was the deepest and longest, lasting 11months. During many of these days I could not leave the house.

Instead, I found a new twist in AA’s exhortation to take life one day at a time. One day at a time I decided not to kill myself. I could always kill myself tomorrow, I assured myself, and with this comforting thought would make it through the day at hand. The next day I would have the same interior dialogue.

Day after day, week after week, month after month. Many AA friends kept a distance. People are frightened by depression and don’t know how to comfort or respond to those upon whom it preys. But a

couple of people stuck with me and I went to meetings whenever I could. Without the hope, I received from AA, my decision on one of those days might have gone in the other direction. Clinging to this hope during a time when my mind lay wasted was my first spiritual experience, though I didn’t realize it at the time.

After 11 months, I got better. Perhaps this was due to the self-limiting nature of most depressive episodes. Perhaps my new psychiatrist, an experienced pharmacologist, had hit upon the right cocktail of medications. Perhaps the advent of spring gave me a boost. In any event, within a month of my rebound I realized that I was a different person than my pre-depression self.

How to describe a spiritual awakening without spilling clichés? To boil it down, first I was suffused with feelings that had so long eluded me -- sadness, hurt, bewilderment, love for others, guilt, contentment, vulnerability, and even occasional joy. Second, my relentlessly preempting and controlling mind quieted down. Third, as self-preoccupation faded, I felt deeply connected with other people and through this to a flowing sustenance of humility and compassion.

This healing was not self-generated, not even self-discovered, but alighted on me with the force of grace, though a different sort of grace than I had preached about from the pulpit so many years ago. It was not tethered to doctrinal notions of salvation from sin but rather to a sense of being lifted and opened out.

I have heard people in Alcoholics Anonymous describe similar experiences in many different hues and usually with a sense of reverence. Many ascribe their awakening to God, without tying said being to any religious specifications. So, regarded, God is the source of transcendent meaning that suffuses our lived experience with a sacred cadence that we ourselves are unable to orchestrate. This fit my experience and I am comfortable thinking of a God as the source of the grace which came flowing into my life.

This is not the all-powerful, entirely benevolent intervening God I learned of in Seminary and who is the subject of devotion in Islam, Judaism, and Hinduism. At the very least, the problem of suffering is insurmountable. None of the usual solutions or atypical resolutions of the problem work and this rules out the existence of a personal God, at least for me.

So now, to use the fashionable lingo, I “self-identify” as a spiritual agnostic. When I occasionally mention this at meetings, I am met with both chuckles and expressions of quizzical skepticism. I don’t elaborate during meetings but when asked am pleased to expostulate on this apparent misnomer. I view agnosticism as a position of epistemological humility, the belief that it is intrinsically impossible for humans to know whether or not God exists. Human certitude is confined to the realm of the empirically discernable. God, by definition, lies outside this sphere and therefore cannot be known as an entity within the confines of space and time. Hence, any human perception of God is either speculative or grounded in faith. Religious faith per se is based on distinctive revelations that delineate a divine being who intervenes in human affairs with particular purposes that require devotional fealty.

Spiritual faith or belief, by contrast, is an openness to a transcendent sacredness that imbues human experience without requiring the causality of a divine entity. The origins of spiritual truth may lie in a God or in an extra-phenomenal vibration of energy or in a higher collective human consciousness. Or the source may be a mystery. I am content with mystery, though for semantic and communicative purposes

may use the term God. I think that most people in AA find themselves somewhere in this spiritual landscape.

I don’t know what caused my spiritual deliverance. Did my depression burn a knot of ego out of me? Or was the cessation of pain so sweet that it opened portals to new vistas? The proximity of depression and spiritual awakening suggests a connection. Bill Wilson wrote many times that pain is the touchstone of spiritual deliverance and this is given testimonial proof day after day in AA meetings and gatherings around the world.

Well, what does all this have to do with the present and future of Alcoholics Anonymous? Tradition Five tells us that our primary purpose is to carry the message “to the alcoholic who still suffers.” In fulfilling this mission, experience has taught us, we at the same time maintain and cultivate our own sobriety.

Furthermore, as Tradition Eleven reminds us, we carry out our mission through attraction rather than promotion. AA is not going to hawk its wares on highway billboards or TV infomercials but rather invite the interested through personal encounters and the exchange of stories. Thus, every AA group needs to welcome newcomers with an open embrace and erect a minimum of barriers between them and the fellowship. Over the past couple of decades two issues have threatened to soil AA’s welcome mat.

First, what about drugs other than alcohol? This was once a source of heated controversy. Bill Wilson cautioned that AA’s focus need to remain on alcohol alone, but this admonition has been overrun by sheer volume. In most parts of the world the number of “pure” alcoholics coming into the program has shrunk to a tiny percentage. Most newcomers have been multiple drug users. Even matronly suburban women have typically mixed their booze with prescription medications. I have been to hundreds of meetings and never heard a person admonished for speaking of drugs other than alcohol. We seem to have adjusted to polydrug addiction, flying under the banner of “A drug is a drug is a drug.”

Second, and more germane to our present concerns, many of the young people flowing into our rooms bring an indifference, even hostility, to the concept of God. They did not come of age in the

predominant Christian culture of their parents and grandparents. When they are told that they need to believe in God to get sober, they are startled and ready to bolt. We certainly do not need to stop speaking about God in and out of meetings. Many people in AA speak of a spiritual experience that they loosely attribute to God, for lack of a better designation. But at the same time, we should eschew dogmatic religiosity and any suggestion of affiliation with specific religious institutions. Pain is our common denominator; this and the opening up of our pain to a spiritual remedy. Religious faith is one species of spiritual remedy, but not the only one and far from the most common one in the fellowship.

An AA group I regularly attend recently met after the regular meeting to discuss whether we wanted to keep saying the Lord’s Prayer at the end of the hour. The alternative was to use the more neutral serenity prayer or the responsibility statement. Strong opinions were expressed on both sides of the issue.

Traditionalists argued in favor of, well, tradition. One person maintained that AA was based on Christian principles which, as our literature attests, has some truth to it. These principles, however, are not embodied exclusively in Christian doctrine and practice. Those adopting the opposite view, myself included, pointed out the peculiarity of using an explicitly Christian prayer in an organization that disavows any religious affiliation. We made the key point that the Lord’s Prayer is off-putting to many newcomers, who increasingly these days come from non-religious backgrounds and are alienated by a collective recitation of a prayer embedded in the Christian religion. Several at the meeting knew of first time visitors qualified for AA membership but put off by the sectarian prayer. They were not mollified by the circled hand-holding, which only imbued the proceedings with a cultish tinge. There is only one (albeit now broadened) requirement for membership in AA and remaining faithful to this primary purpose is a key to our future relevance and vitality.

After a spirited discussion, the group voted overwhelmingly in favor of replacing the Lord’s Prayer with the responsibility statement. A couple of regular attendees were offended and have not returned, but the group as a whole is thriving. From my neck of the woods in the Northeastern part of the country this vote is consonant with the trend in many meetings away from using the Lord’s Prayer. This trend supports AA’s affirmation that God is characterized by our individual understanding rather than collective agreement.

Here, I hope, lies the future of AA – broad-mindedly open to an amalgam of spiritualties that may or may not rely on a belief in the Gods of religion and are open to the multiple manifestations of the sacred.

About the Author, Galen T.

Galen spent most of his career in the ministry, and in mental health and career counseling. He has published numerous articles as a career consultant. He is now an independent writer focusing on the application of personal narrative to addiction recovery and life generally. He has been sober since 1995 and is active in several of his local AA groups.

Artwork

The photography used in this article was created by Larry K. from the Beyond Belief Group in Toronto, Ontario.

An Old-timer, A Newcomer, Yet Neither

By Jennifer C.

Originally Published on October 9, 2016 at aabeyondbelief.com November 2005, I walked into a restaurant, ordered a glass of wine and flushed 22 years of sobriety. The following day the obsession to drink hit me like a tsunami. Knowing full well the schemes alcoholics use to control their drinking didn’t save me from trying each and every one. But I wanted to try everything I had missed. I had never enjoyed a legal drink. Now I was 38 and entitled to party. However, it took a few drinks to remove the phrase “once an alcoholic always an alcoholic” spinning in my mind.

I grew up “in” alcoholism, completely surrounded: my father, mother, father’s parents, four older half siblings, neighbors, and my parents’ friends. Life was full of secrets, lies, cheating, anger, and abuse. It was a hostile environment for a child, saturated with unrealistic expectations and shifting rules, the constant uncertainty of never knowing if the strict or jovial parent would show up. There were fist fights, no parental guidance, and unjust punishment. I was alone in an adult world of chaos, twisting and turning on emotional whims. Constant adrenaline rushes forged a pattern of anxiety and depression, ups and downs; this mess created an unstable foundation for coping with life. At the age of 11 the spiral continued after my parents divorced.

My first higher power, amphetamines, showed up in junior high school. Drugs were easier to obtain than alcohol and drug abuse, anger, cheating, lies, and secrets became the scene of my everyday life. With

mom gone every day working and drunk most nights, it opened up the perfect playground for an unruly child to party. Surrounded by like-minded friends there was still a gaping hole in my life.

By the time I was 15, I sat in my first meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous. In the early 80’s teenagers were common in the rooms. Adolescent treatment centers were a booming business and insurance companies paid for them. There was a group of 10-15 of us teens who hung out. My social life improved and I was no longer alone. I felt like I was understood when I shared my feelings. I was that square peg in a round hole ever since I could remember, with a dialog of constant comparison of my insides and your outsides. I found my people.

My beginning experiences in AA were good, well better than the rest of my life had been. I was the youngest in the rooms and got lots of protective attention from older members. I found a home group and showed up every week to set up and greet any attendee at the door. The greeter line at the meeting was five to ten people long. I don’t remember introducing newcomers during the meeting. We were instructed to greet and meet every member walking through the door. Face to face. Shake every hand.

Young and impressionable AA members were my guides during formative years: don’t drink, go to meetings, work the steps, pray, and help others. The fourth step was very confusing because, in reality, I was still developmentally and responsibly right where I was supposed to be: the level of a teenager. And this mind doesn’t require any ego smashing: teenagers are supposed to be selfish, self-centered, rebellious, and making mistakes while they are still at home! It’s not normal to have self-awareness as a teenager and the results often border on paranoia and cult thinking: “If you tread off the path you end up dead or in an institution.” There were real examples of this: the first AA death I experienced was one of the teens in my group. He was 18 and put a gun to his head. The second was like a father to me, Wally. He dated my mom after her first year of sobriety, and was more loving and kind to me than my father ever was; he drank after 12 years. He was so loved in AA the men went around to all the motels and showed his picture telling the owners his room was paid for and to let him in. Winters in Cleveland, Ohio are cold and wet, the call came, a cleaning lady found him hanging in a motel room with a note, “God forgive me.” The reality of AA and sobriety was formed as the only way to stay alive by the time I was 18. Death was a part of my third year; my dad’s father passed just after Wally and then my dad a month later due to cancer. I prayed and begged god to help me get over the pain of losing them.

By 20 I was speaking all over the place from Cleveland to Akron and even in Pennsylvania. My story made people cry and question their own program. Lots of heavy hits about the steps, service, and lots of god. I desperately wanted to believe life had a purpose and mine was to carry the message of AA to others. I stayed sober through high school, my father's death, college, a marriage, two moves from Cleveland to New Orleans and New Orleans to Portland, Oregon, the birth of two kids, a divorce, another marriage, and then another divorce. I can add to this list with my current sobriety.

1999 was my last meeting until 2012. With 16 years of sobriety at 32 years old, there seemed nothing left to learn from a room full of adults with similar amounts of sobriety. Seeking peace, church seemed the next logical place to go. I was lying to myself that I was no longer an alcoholic and Jesus could save me from this life for a spot in an eternal wonderland after death. I was miserable. I would leave the church just as hollow as I had entered, searching for something outside myself to show me who I was and give me comfort. But it never came. Church and religion left me in another harsh judgmental place, and praying never took anything away. The next addiction was work, but no matter how successful nothing helped fill the gnawing voice in the back of my head feeding my fears. And then the ominous

glass of wine passed my lips and sealed my fate for the next seven years, a descending mental state into darkness, leaving reality farther behind with every step.

In four short years, doctors, family, and friends were worried about my declining health. My nerves were firing off pain signals through my body and my bone density was reduced. I was losing the hair on my body and I could no longer think clearly.

I also became “that” parent with teenagers at the house 24/7 because the house was a party. I thought, “smoking pot is ok, just don’t drink,” as I poured myself another. I switched from beer to wine because I didn’t want to get fat. Then to gin because it got me there and I could say I only had a couple drinks.

Sixteen-ounce drinks, but it was still only a couple and I was good to go. I liked to sit right in the zone of buzzed but not too much because I hated throwing up. Marijuana and pills afforded me more wiggle room with alcohol consumption, and bolstered my new rationale about not being an alcoholic because I only had x number of drinks and didn’t start until 5 pm on weekdays. A beer for lunch on Saturday and Sunday was all right. My reality had shifted so far from my values and any sort of good judgment I didn’t know who I was any longer.

My day started with a pill to wake up, pot, a drink by 5 pm, more pot, more pot, and some kind of a diazepam to sleep. Day in and day out my mind raced, shouting, “I’m an alcoholic,” but I was not ready to stop. My life was crumbling around me and I didn't want to see it. But my husband left the house for six months and I thought I was free. I hung out with the kids. I wasn’t a parent. I wasn’t capable of being a parent. They parented me and gave me advice. My life was small. The house, kids, and animals. I was afraid to leave the house most days. I had a few stoner friends. I could stand to be around them for a couple hours. All those sober years as a teen I was making up for. I didn’t want to look at myself. This was the lowest point in my life.

My husband and I decided to give it another shot and moved back in together. I was trying to keep it together. I felt like I was on the upswing and wanted to do something with my life. I enrolled in … beauty school! I made it the first week without drinking Sunday to Friday. It was the drinking that was a problem. The pills and pot didn't count. I was proving to myself I could function on a daily basis so I wasn’t an alcoholic. That week, I made it five days. The longest I had gone without a drink. And I wanted to drink. I continued to try to not drink but would make it until the third day and reward myself with a glass of wine and then another. I never knew when I would have too many or if I could stop at two. Two was three-quarters of the bottle. I smoked pot before drinking so I’d drink less. December 10, 2012 was the third day without any drink or drug, and I knew I would drink that night if I didn't do something.

Walking into a noon meeting, I was terrified, ashamed, humiliated. When they asked if there were any newcomers I spoke up as if out of a dream state, “I am Jennifer and I’m an alcoholic. I had 22 years.” I cried. I had to throw in the past time because I didn’t want to be a total newbie. At three days, I left my husband because he still wanted to drink and so did I. But I didn’t want to die.

I love what Adam says in his book Common Sense Recovery, “An old timer, a newcomer, yet neither.” It’s true. All the knowledge and past work doesn’t go away. It takes a while to catch up, though. I walked in knowing full well what lay ahead. Reality had hit me in the face and I was in pain. The program and working the steps doesn’t just go away when you're out drinking. It’s all still there ticking away, keeping track, continuing to build a case against me. I got a sponsor that day and phone numbers of women.

I went to two to three meetings a day for the first few months and called women in-between the meetings. I wanted to drink. My body screamed for something to shut my feelings and mind off. I was an alcoholic without my drug to keep me sane. I felt like I was jumping out of my skin. I started taking people to meetings, got a home group, and began to work the steps. I was running from the drink.

Wanting to put distance between me and it. A demon was chasing me and I was afraid. I prayed on my knees many times a day but nothing helped liked calling someone.

I shared in meetings, “I want to be stoned or drunk. This sucks. I want to use.” If I couldn’t share that at a meeting, then where could I share it? My shares changed to, “It’s only god that keeps me sober.” I found a sponsor who knew the book inside and out. Her way was fear-based with god being the only answer. Without god, I was doomed to drink and death. I knew this from my past to be true and felt blessed to have made it back. I didn’t know what or when my disease would rear its ugly head. I was afraid I would be struck drunk. I was that person in the room who was afraid for your sobriety if you didn’t know god. I was the god-bot, big book thumper, know-it-all.

The best prayer I learned was “The Set Aside Prayer.” At first I had to set aside everything I knew from my past sobriety and experience the steps like it was my first time through. I hung onto every word in the big book trying to believe in god. I didn’t know I was an atheist. My inner dialog with god went all day long and was more like begging. The loud inner voice simply shifted from one selfish thing (alcohol) to another, god help me. My daily ritual began by reading “Upon awakening …” and ended with inventory. I was afraid not to read, pray, call my sponsor, and go to meetings, thinking I would be struck drunk. There was a hope all this action would quiet my mind and relieve anxiety. I started smoking and drinking coffee and that helped.

I did learn a lot about the steps and through the experience, I was able to separate the alcoholic from the real me. I am powerless over alcohol. My body is different. I can never drink like a normal person.

I’ve altered my physical brain and, from what science tells me, it will never go back. I proved to myself

the reason I drink is for effect. I take that first drink and it spills over me and I flush with warmth. My mind calms even before the effect starts. Once I drink I have no idea how much I will drink or for how long. Seven years of drunkenness had flown by.

My mind is different. When alcohol is in my system I have no grasp on reality and it becomes the focus of my world. I cannot process reality around alcohol. I end up in a cycle that has no end. Waking to thoughts like, “today I am not going to drink” and by 4 pm I’m at the store buying alcohol. I completely forget my resolve and anything that happened the night before.

A normal drinker goes to a party and has a beer. When the cake comes out they eat cake and forget where they set the beer. When I drink, I don’t eat the cake because it ruins the taste of the beer. It doesn't leave my hand until it's gone and I am thinking about the next one.

My life becomes unmanageable. A tornado begins in my noisy mind stretching out in all directions, believing everything it says my internal world is all that matters. A skein of tangled stories begins to mount, becoming huge obstacles to progress in daily life. How long will it take for something outside myself to break the alcoholic cycle?

I got to Step Two and this is when the difficulty started. I was instructed to write down what I needed in a higher power. I came up with endless lists and began by calling my HP safe, because I needed to feel safe more than anything else. I would pray on my knees every morning and night, wake up and do my book reading, go to a meeting, and start my day all over again. I wasn’t free. I was afraid and trapped in a ritual: if I didn’t do those actions I would get drunk. How is a god keeping me sober?

Step Three: ok, prayed the prayer. Over and over and over and over again. My confusion about god's will was stressful. If I didn’t do god's will would there be some retributive punishment? Because I was in selfwill I was bedeviled? Other members tried to help me but it all felt like it led back to myself.

Step Four: intense. I can write a whole article just about my process through Steps Four and Five. It stripped away the “storyline” I had believed for many years and all I could see was myself.

I got to the fear inventory and was instructed to write down specifically what I was afraid of. I had the usual fears: unlovable, unworthy, finances, death, and one that perplexed my sponsor, what if there is no god? I had never thought of that. What if there was no god and nothing besides myself or other humans to love me. It was in that moment I was faced with a very raw, painful experience. There is no god to keep me sober, to love me when I am alone, to forgive me, to live in some eternity with. Nothing, gone just like that. Everything I thought I knew (Set Aside Prayer) was washed out from under me and I was alone. Was it ok to be alone? Could I get “right” with myself and forgive myself? Was I capable of changing my behavior? No god to rebel against. No inner dialog with anyone to help me. No trying to figure out what something else wanted from me. What do I want? What is important to me?

I was responsible and that meant I was directing my life. It was as if an opaque screen was lifted from my eyes and everything looked crisp. I no longer needed any “spiritual” filter between myself and the world around me. Nothing was guiding me. I was no longer afraid. I had nothing to seek the approval of, no more falling short and disappointing anything. I was here and it was my decision where I went from here. Quiet. My mind no longer rattled on to some being who heard my thoughts. I felt peace. I was no longer struggling to believe in something I didn't feel. I dropped thinking that things happen for a reason and reading into everything as a sign from god. I wasn't trying to “turn it over” in order to have

acceptance of life events that felt like punishment, a punishment, some mystical karma lurking around any corner to rudely slap me for making a wrong choice or reward me for obedience.

When I share that the process of the steps led me to being atheist, AA members are shocked. But the process as an atheist is about me and my relationship to reality. So, Step One is the same. Step Two became trusting the process of the steps and a rewiring of the brain that allows me to see more of the reality around me. Reality is what changed me. With Step Three I stop playing a god by manipulating life to go my way and make a decision to go Four through Nine. Nothing complicated about it. Step Four is the key to reality. Strip away all my defenses and share who I am with someone. My patterns, fears, and behaviors, what drives them, a fact-finding mission about how I behave, not some big autobiography or timeline. During Steps Six and Seven I ask who do I want to be? Where do I want to go from here? Then on to Step Eight where part of my list is made from Step Four. However, I don’t resent everyone I owe amends to. Nine is where the rubber hits the road. What’s an Amend? Change. I am no longer the person who drinks. Now I need to regain the trust of those I hurt around me by showing them I care.

It took three years sober for my daughter to trust me. I didn’t defend myself or make excuses for my past behaviors. She would yell at me and my response was, “That must have been hard for you. I understand you are angry. I would be too.” It was my responsibility to validate her experience and support her emotions. I was the adult and had not been there for her. I made amends by being there even when she didn’t want me there. She broke her knee and when I showed up at the hospital she said, “I don’t want you here.” I stayed for over a week and slept on her bedroom floor taking care of her no matter how poorly she treated me. I showed her she could trust me and I loved her. No words could have made that right.

Last year I moved away and she came to visit me. We had an amazing time in New York City, Boston, and all over The Berkshires. We laughed, talked, walked tons of miles, and the connection was beautiful. I cannot describe how full my heart felt. On her last night, we were out to dinner and she got tears in her

eyes and asked me if I could forgive her for how poorly she had treated me the past three years. I cried.

We talk almost daily now. I’ve visited her twice already this year. Once was a vacation, the next time she had knee surgery and I took care of her. She will be here in a week and a half to visit me. We just got off the phone and she is excited to visit and spend time with me. Nothing comes close to the mental and emotional impact healing this relationship has had on my life. Connection with another human is the greatest power I have ever experienced.

My life is full of amazing people and relationships based on love and honesty. I know my sobriety is good by the fruits of the relationships around me. The ones I love are my mirror. I still like traditional meetings. There’s something about the ritual that feels safe. I change things in my mind and make it work. My actions keep me sober. I attend meetings, have a home group, have a sponsor, and sponsor women. The connection is what keeps me sober. AA was there when I needed it twice in my life. It’s home for me.

About the Author, Jennifer C.

Jennifer lives in The Berkshires with the love of her life, his teenage son, two cats, and a dog. She travels across the country to visit her mother, daughter and son in Oregon. When she's home you will find her in the garden, walking, cooking, substitute teaching at the local high school, or gaming.

Artwork

The featured image and other artwork used for this article was created by Cope C, from the Many Paths group in Urbana, Illinois.

My Case Against Spirituality

By Richard H., Originally Published on October 16, 2016 at aabeyondbelief.com My name is Richard, and I am a grateful recovered alcoholic. I am also an atheist and most certainly not spiritual.

It seems like the word spirituality means something different to everyone who uses it in AA. I’ve heard people use “spirituality” to describe strongly theistic belief systems such as reliance on a prayer-granting deity. I’ve heard more “new age-y” ideas incorporating things like “karmic forces” in the Universe, I have heard secular ideas like the ones promoted by Sam Harris, a well know atheist author, and I’ve heard everything in between.

This brings me to my first problem with the use of the word “spiritual”. Because these ideas about what is spiritual vary so greatly from person to person, no one seems to know what anyone means when they say they are spiritual. Even when we eliminate the blatantly theistic ideas, it’s left up to any one person’s imagination what is being conveyed when someone references their spirituality.

If we were to sit down and discuss what exactly we mean when we talk about practicing spirituality, some (or possibly all) of the following ideas would be mentioned: • • •

Practicing kindness Being honest Being compassionate

• • • • • • • • • • • •

Practicing acceptance Achieving serenity Being slow to anger Self-examination Some sort of giving back/charity Loving of nature Being “at one” with The Universe Having a sense of wonder Deflating the ego Enjoying music Meditating Repeating mantras or affirmations

This list is by no means comprehensive, but certainly these are some of the major themes. By and large, these are all excellent concepts and practices, and most of us would inarguably benefit from incorporating them into our daily lives.

However, even on this list of secular ideas, there can be confusion about how to practice them. For example, the seemingly simple idea of meditation becomes an exercise in confusing mental gymnastics.

How does one meditate? Is there a right or a wrong way? What exactly is it? I admit that I am guilty of using this kind of spiritually-centered language about meditation when I am sharing in an AA meeting as well. Being an atheist who doesn’t pray, I feel I have to meditate to be accepted in the club. I enjoy swimming and try to get into the pool 5 days a week. I find the water peaceful and find the repetitive splashing and breathing calming. I find that trying to keep my mind clear of everything except which length I am on difficult, but rewarding. About a year ago, I bought a waterproof iPod Nano with waterproof headphones. I was going to listen to some of my favorite music while I was in the pool. I used it twice. (On that note, if anyone wants to buy a waterproof iPod Nano …) I missed the peaceful quiet and the repetition of *splash splash* breathe *splash splash* breathe.

I describe my physical and cognitive understanding of the experience of swimming as meditation. I have no idea if it is or not. I went to a Step 11 meeting in Toronto about 3 years ago where the meeting started with 10 minutes of quiet “meditation.” Everyone sat quietly on their chair and said nothing. For me, this was a completely different experience than my swimming, yet it’s still called meditation. Are they the same thing? They can’t be, can they? Does anyone actually know?

If we look up the definition of spiritual on dictionary.com, we find that we have to broaden the definition from the secular one above.

Spiritual: 1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

of, relating to, or consisting of spirit; incorporeal of or relating to the spirit or soul, as distinguished from the physical nature closely akin in interests, attitude, outlook, etc. of or relating to spirits or to spiritualists; supernatural or spiritualistic characterized by or suggesting predominance of the spirit; ethereal of or relating to the spirit as the seat of the moral or religious nature

7. of or relating to sacred things or matters; religious; devotional; sacred This is my second problem, and it goes beyond just confusion about what the word spirituality means.

The unifying idea in these definitions is the existence of something unseen. We see the words incorporeal, supernatural, ethereal, and sacred. This idea that spirituality encompasses the existence of something unseen is, in my experience, far more commonplace than the secular concepts I listed previously. It encompasses the “I’m spiritual, but not religious” crowd, many of the “new age” kinds of ideas, and even many who would consider themselves agnostics.

spirituality sounds like woo.

I find this idea even more unpalatable than I find the confusion around the secular idea of spirituality.

I find this idea unpalatable for the same reason I am an atheist. I see no evidence for a spirit, a soul, anything supernatural, or anything separate from the physical world. If you are going to claim that such things exist, then I require proof. Until you present that evidence, I am going to suspend belief.

Some of the ideas in the above definitions and practices actually fare worse than that. Not only is there no evidence for the existence of a soul or spirit, modern neuroscience provides good evidence that mind-body dualism is false. This entire idea of

Tying these ideas together is easy enough. All the secular ideas that I listed above (even the confusing idea of meditation) are a result of physical actions and processes. There is no need for me to invoke any woo to describe the actions and processes that have helped me recover from alcoholism. I decide to be kind and honest. I do not act impulsively out of anger. Slowly, as I practice these behaviors over a period of time, I have become better and better at them. I practice positive affirmations, and slowly my selfesteem has improved. I slow down and look at the world around me. I look up at the night sky, and I realize I am just the smallest piece of a universe so immense I cannot comprehend it. I examine my past behaviors and I try to do more of the good things, and less of the bad, and all of those decisions are influenced by my secular worldview and secular morality.

But what does all this matter? It matters because, in recovery, we try to share our experience, strength, and hope. If we cannot share our experience in such a way that it’s very clear to the majority of the people present what we’re talking about, then what good is it? When we talk of spirituality, the confusion as to what we mean renders what we share virtually meaningless. It offers no more clarity than “I did stuff and then stuff happened.”

The other, and perhaps more important reason, is that it matters for the newcomer. The newcomer who is not yet comfortable with the overtly theistic language we often hear in AA rooms. The newcomer who hears the word god, decides he has walked into a cult, and never comes back. Statistics show that the number of non-believers is growing in the United States. In other countries (like Canada, where I live) the number of non-believers is much higher. The overtly theistic/religious nature of AA is driving the newcomers away, and as the percentage of non-believers grows, AA’s membership will surely decline. If we truly want to help newcomers, we need to move away from the overtly theistic/religious language, and move toward embracing language that is very clear and unmistakably secular.

My name is Richard and I am a decidedly unspiritual recovered alcoholic.

About the Author, Richard H.

Richard is one of the many educated waiters. His degree is in Finance but he works at a successful and critically acclaimed restaurant in Calgary. If he isn’t at work you will often find him in the pool swimming. He has been sober since February 2012 and helped start a WAAFT meeting in Calgary.

Our Grapevine

By John S., Originally Published on October 13, 2016 at aabeyondbelief.com The widely anticipated October issue of the AA Grapevine, featuring a special section devoted to stories by agnostics and atheists in AA, has been published and delivered to mailboxes around the world. I received my copy, and I was very pleased with the stories chosen for publication. I feel the authors did a great job capturing the essence of agnostic AA, and the Grapevine editors presented the stories with great care and respect.

In the introduction, the Senior Editor reminded readers that "Bill W. intended the Grapevine to be a mirror of the Fellowship", and they hoped that these stories would "shed light on the joys and challenges of our atheist and agnostic members." I think for the most part they succeeded, and the rest of the Fellowship, by reading these articles will gain some valuable insight into our ever-growing heathen AA community.

There is probably, at least in my opinion, more diversity of experience among agnostics, atheists and freethinkers in AA than all the rest of the Fellowship combined. There are for example, some of us for whom spirituality is very important, but for others it's complete hogwash. Many of us think the Twelve Steps are absolutely critical to our sobriety, while perhaps just as many of us feel they are nothing more than window dressing. It is of course impossible for the Grapevine to document the entirety of our experience in a single issue, but they have reached out to us with what I feel is a warm embrace. It's now incumbent upon us agnostics, atheists and freethinkers to also embrace the Grapevine by continuing to share our experience, strength and hope in its pages. This is our Grapevine too!

grapevine-review believe that the publication of the October, 2016 Grapevine will go down as an important event in the history of Alcoholics Anonymous. According to an article published by AA Agnostica on February 18, 2015, (No Grapevine Book for Atheists in AA), there were only 40 stories from agnostics and atheists published in the Grapevine from 1962 through 2014, and never before in the Grapevine's 72-year history has there ever been an issue devoted to atheist and agnostic members. Oh, and by the way, the Grapevine will be publishing a book of stories from agnostics and atheists in AA. This was approved by the General Service Conference, and I'm sure we will be learning more about the book over the coming year.

When I started reading this issue of the Grapevine, I got a bit teary-eyed. It seemed to conjure up some buried emotion related to my place in AA as an atheist, often feeling apart from the rest of the Fellowship. I haven't experienced the degree of persecution by my brothers and sisters in AA as many of you have endured. I haven't for example, received the harassing phone calls, as some have from my home group where the caller says, "It ain't AA without God", and hangs up. Nor have I endured the pain of my Central Office refusing to list my group in the local meeting directory as has happened in Denver, Toronto, Vancouver, and Des Moines to name a few.

No, my pain was more internal, born from the initial realization that I was an atheist, the fear that I would no longer be welcomed in AA, and the sometimes not so subtle rebuke that I received from others in the Fellowship. So, when I read the words "our agnostic and atheist members" in the pages of the Grapevine, I found those to be comforting and even healing words.

I know that I'm not alone in being so moved by this month's Grapevine. My friend, Gregg O. from my home group ordered ten copies, and when he brought them to our meeting, one of our group members looked at the magazine in disbelief and said, "this gives us legitimacy." Like it or not, admit it or not, among many of us, there exists a need to feel accepted by the rest of AA. It's a real need that comes from rejection that we have either directly experienced, or that we have witnessed others experience. That's why of course, this issue of the Grapevine is so important.

Let's now look at how the stories that were published reflect our experience.

In the first article "Sober with No God", Bill M. writes about the need to be true to himself, which is a common theme among us nonbelievers in AA. That's often the great struggle for us, to somehow overcome the admonition to "fake it until we make it." Bill learned to focus more on the actions involved with the Steps rather than belief. Like many of us in AA, regardless of our belief or lack of belief, Bill views AA as a practical program of action.

Paige B., in the story "Ceased Fighting" writes, "I am an atheist and not on my way to belief. The Big Book says, "God is everything or else He is nothing." I chose the latter and got on with working the program." She goes on to describe how she found power in the group to stay sober, and she was able to get sober in AA without having to compromise her belief system.

This is a principle that is incredibly important among agnostics, atheists and freethinkers in AA. In fact, for those of you who may not be familiar with agnostic AA, many of our meetings begin with a reading of what we call the "Agnostic AA Preamble", which includes the statement that we do not have to conform to another's beliefs or to deny our own. Most of us unfortunately, have had the experience of sharing honestly in a meeting only to be corrected by others, who often quote the Big Book at us. That's just wrong! We all have to be who we are, and we have a right to that. Thank you, Paige, for saying what so many of us have said though sometimes quietly to ourselves, "god is nothing."

In "God on Every Page", Alex M writes, "...the Big Book was not simply an instruction manual, but a historical document, and reflected the predominantly religious roots and views of its early members."

Though admittedly many of us keep the Big Book on the shelf, just as many if not most of us do respect the book. We just don't worship it! We view it as Alex does, as a historical text that reflects the experience of AA's first members. Even they admitted they knew only little. I like to think that those of us in the agnostic, atheist and freethinking AA community want to build on the work of our founders, not replicate it. Thank you, Alex,!

Speaking of not worshiping the Big Book, Marnin M. writes about reading the Big Book as literature and working a secular program. He enjoys being of service whether that means answering the phones for intergroup, speaking at other groups, sponsoring others, or simply sharing at a meeting. Marnin mentioned a feeling of loneliness that comes from being a secularist in a sea of religious AA members.

Who among us can't relate to that?

Life-J, in "Open-Minded" shares his experience of being rejected by his local intergroup, who refused to list his new agnostic AA meeting. He says the experience "radicalized him", and that he doesn't feel like a "member of the tribe". I applaud the Grapevine for publishing this story. It's a story that needs to be told. Integroups that refuse to list agnostic AA groups in their meeting directories, must understand how deeply this hurts. Their actions cause an unnecessary fracturing of our Fellowship, and locks people out of AA who might otherwise be helped.

Those of us in agnostic AA can testify that we see a lot of newcomers at our meetings who simply would not go to a traditional AA meeting laden with prayers. Our meetings provide a sanctuary for these alcoholics; we provide them a place in AA where they can recover. Not allowing these meetings to be listed in a meeting directory is simply irresponsible and dangerous. It's an issue the rest of AA needs to understand, but they just don't get it. I wish they would. Denver, are you reading this? Des Moines, Vancouver, and Toronto Intergroups, did you read this story?

Cara A. from the beautiful state of Missouri (my home state), helped start an agnostic AA meeting in the eastern part of the state. Her group, We Agnostics, recently celebrated their first anniversary. She wrote in the story "My Search", about her experience coming to the understanding that she is an agnostic, and how she met some resistance when expressing her beliefs in meetings. She points out though, that by sharing her experience honestly and openly as an agnostic, others have come to her expressing gratitude for knowing they aren't alone. Today, Cara sponsors people of faith as well as agnostics, and

her sponsor is a believer. Her story shows that when we are true to ourselves, we may help open doors for others.

In "Coincidentally Sober" S.B. from Ventura, California writes about serving as the General Service Representative for the We Agnostics Group. S.B. was hoping to advocate for the creation of a pamphlet aimed at alcoholics who have a problem with the preponderance of God in AA literature". Coincidentally enough, such a pamphlet was in the works and S.B. was able to participate with helping to make the pamphlet a reality. We know the pamphlet today as Many Paths to Spirituality. Now of course many of us, including myself weren't happy with the Many Paths pamphlet as it wasn't truly representative of our community. It was however an effort, a step in the right direction and it should serve as a call to action for those of us who want to see it revised or the creation of a new pamphlet similar to what the AA General Service Office in the United Kingdom recently published, The "God" Word. We can do it, if we get involved.

S.B.'s story illustrates the importance of getting involved with General Service. I think it's absolutely critical, especially for us nonbelievers. We have an obligation to help guide the Fellowship through the certain change that is coming. As a minority voice, we have an extra-special obligation for our voice be heard. We speak for thousands who are not in the rooms of AA, but who could be helped. Through General Service, we have an opportunity to build upon the work of those who preceded us, and to make AA ever more inclusive so as to help a greater number of alcoholics.

Ward Ewing, Trustee Emeritus, past Chair (non-alcoholic) of the General Service Board concluded the special section for agnostics and atheists by recounting his experience at the first We Agnostics Atheists and Freethinkers International AA Convention that was held in Santa Monica, California in November of 2014.

I attended that convention and heard Reverend Ewing's talk. I was fairly new to agnostic AA at the time, and I found his speech to be very inspiring. His message was a unifying one, stressing how much we have in common with the rest of the Fellowship. Our experience is essentially the same, the only difference is the language we use to describe that experience. Why get hung up on words?

What we believe about something is far less important to living than what we experience. Experience is what transforms us; belief is our attempt to explain; experience trumps explanation. –Ward Ewing, Trustee Emeritus, past Chair (non-alcoholic) of the General Service Board of AA Thank you, Grapevine. Thank you for telling our stories. We will continue to send more stories, and we will write to comment on the stories of others. We will subscribe and fully participate, because this is our Grapevine too.

The Grapevine at WAAFT IAAC

Ami Brophy, the Executive Editor Publisher of the AA Grapevine will attend the We Agnostics, Atheists and Freethinkers International AA Convention to be held in Austin, Texas from November 11 through 13, 2016. Ami will participate on the Literature Panel and she will host a workshop on how to write articles for the Grapevine.

Renaming WAAFT IAAC

By Pat N. Originally published on October 26, 2016 at aabeyondbelief.com

A Rose is a Rose

My brother Dick, who led both me and our older brother into AA, died recently, and family members made sure he had various Catholic, Jewish, and New Age rituals to send him off. I'm sure he appreciated the sincerity and love behind all their efforts, but I'm also sure he was amused, since he was an early member of the We Agnostics AA group in L.A. This reminds me that selecting a new name for WAAFT is one of the most important things which will happen at our international convention next month. WAAFT has served us well so far, but it is unwieldy, and tries to cover an array of beliefs much wider than just “atheists, agnostics, and freethinkers�.

We have each reached a sober set of beliefs by which we perceive the Universe and direct our actions.

We may find our beliefs evolving, and the label we prefer for them changes as well. At various times, I call myself atheist or agnostic or freethinker interchangeably, and I don't really care what I'm called. The philosophical reasons to choose one or the other just aren't that important to me, although I respect those who really care.

What I believe is that we all do the best we can, including with issues like this. I cannot judge your reasons for believing what you do, and what you call that set of beliefs, any more than I want you to

judge me. Our one common, bedrock belief, and what brought us together in the first place, is that we couldn't drink safely and wanted to stop. Our brothers and sisters in AA, believers and nonbelievers alike, taught us how. Our second common belief is that we don't need to share religious or philosophical beliefs in order to get sober together and help others achieve sobriety. In fact, as we know too well, trying to force a set of beliefs on the struggling alcoholic is a surefire way to screw up the process.

Some of the other terms folks like us use are secularist, humanist, deist, and many others. It would be ludicrous to just expand our movement's name to “WAAFTSHDetc”, and if we tried, we might wind up arguing about the order our favorite term is listed. We need a single, accepted term.

I cast my vote for SECULAR to be the core of our new label — something like “Secular AA Sobriety”, although I'm not certain of the best set of words.

Here are my reasons: • “Secular” has always been used to distinguish church and state. While AA isn't a state, the same principle of official neutrality ought to be emphasized; • ”Secular” is a positive word, unlike atheist or agnostic, both of which are based on what a belief doesn't include.

• It's simple. I've heard or taken part in conversations in which people debate the meaning of either “atheist” or “agnostic”, and while entertaining, they rarely resulted in agreement. Secular just means “no official religious belief”. It doesn't mean nonbelief in a god or uncertainty about a god. It just means irrelevant to a belief in a god. And belief in a god, generic or specific, IS irrelevant to sobriety.

I'm secular, and my remaining brother is active in both AA and the Catholic church, but neither of us is “more sober”. Religion may help many, but it's not necessary. Nor should the beliefs of others keep us drunk.

Let's just be secular. And sober.

About the Author, Pat N.

Pat N. is from Olympia Washington and is one of the organizers of the Widening Our Gateway Secular AA Convention that was held in Olympia on January 16, 25016. Pat will be a keynote speaker at the We Agnostics, Atheists and Freethinkers International AA Convention that will be held in Austin, Texas from November 11th through the 13th of this year. You can learn more about Pat in the podcast we posted on August 31st, On the Road to Austin with Pat N.

Journaling

By Thomas B., Originally published on October 23, 2016 at aabeyondbelief.com Most of my life I have been an inveterate journalist, recording the ups and downs, the various vicissitudes, of my often unpredictable and at times haphazard life. I started journaling in earnest during the summer of 1966, after flunking out of my first graduate school, a consequence of excessive drinking.

It was just before I entered the US Army as a Reserve Officer Training Corps (ROTC) 2nd Lieutenant, commissioned upon graduating from college the year before. Ever since I’ve experienced journaling to be a most useful tool to explore some of what my life’s journey has been about.

I still have the small 4” X 5” spiral notebook in which I first journaled. I carried it throughout Basic Officer’s training and during my first active duty assignment in Vietnam. It’s accompanied on a shelf in my office by 26 other handwritten journals of varying sizes and types, along with a stack of extensive 4th & 10th Step inventories written on notebook paper. These journals and inventories, both general 4th Step inventories, as well as those dealing specifically with troubling areas I’ve experienced in recovery — resentments or relationships or jealousies or melancholia or despair or rage or what have you — are most useful to review from time to time.

I’ve only lost one of these journals, one written between late 2000 and early 2002. This notebook recorded one of the most difficult periods of my sobriety. It related the 12-month period when a 22-year relationship painfully came to a crashing end. Then, my third wife and I sold our faux-Victorian cottage in a picturesque hamlet on the south shore of Long Island. Afterwards, I took my half of the proceeds

and bought an upscale RV with all the trimmings and traveled alone for six months throughout the US and Canada with Chutney, a trusted dog companion. During this two-year period, my father died, and I also spent the first three weeks after 911 in downtown Manhattan as a Red Cross Mental Health Volunteer for First Responders. This journal was stolen out of the front seat of an unlocked car, while I was attending an AA meeting. Though minimal compared to the total loss of houses and possessions through natural disasters or fire, such as Tick Hall, the Stanford White-designed beach house in Montauk, NY, which burned to the ground, destroying 30 years of possessions belonging to celebrities Dick Caveat and Carrie Nye, the loss of this journal was another grave loss in a long season of devastating losses.

I nearly lost another of these handwritten journals, one detailing the following two years between 2003 and 2004. For most of this time period, I was on an assignment working for peace in Sri Lanka. I was there on December 26, 2004, when the devastating tsunami destroyed much of that country’s shoreline.

Fortunately, I went on a bike ride inland to visit a 2,000-year-old temple complex shortly before the gigantic wave struck, destroying the guest house compound where I had been staying on a Christmas holiday. When I returned to see the destroyed building where I had left my backpack, computer, and journal, I was devastated again. However, I found the journal, water-soaked and sand-gritted, lying in a puddle about 30 feet down the driveway of the compound.

In addition to these handwritten journals, I have on my computer some 1,500 pages of journals digitally composed, since I became computer-literate in the mid1990s. These include additional inventories, journals, and various musings, including a 164-page — hmm, now that’s a rather significant number for us alcoholics, isn’t it — “Missive to Peter,” my sponsor for 33 years who died in August 2006. In the mystery of the Cosmos, I believe somehow he perceives my musings to him; likewise, I also believe he still conveys to me his deep wisdom. Further, I have written some 430 poems, three unpublished plays, and three online blogs authored by myself. I have also contributed to three other blogs, including fifteen articles written for AA Agnostica and six articles for AA Beyond Belief. Writing is obviously one of the chief tools I use for self-examination and selfreflection.

In my experience writing, whether putting pen to paper or fingers to keyboard, has been an essential component of my on-going recovery process. It continues to this very day. It prevents me from falling prey to the oft-heard statement around the rooms, “We alcoholics are as sick as we are secret.” I might add that this includes especially being honest, authentic, and open with ourselves by delving into our psyches for hidden agendas and spurious rationales.

Continuously taking inventory of myself through writing as suggested in our Step 10 has from early on in the recovery process been an essential tool for not only staying sober, but for continuing to lead a productive and useful life in recovery as well.

It strikes me that historically writing has always been one of AA’s primary tools for staying sober a day at a time. It’s an inferred crucial process of three of the AA Twelve Steps: Step 4, Step 8 and Step 10.

Certainly, Bill Wilson is a primary model for this behavior in sobriety. Not only was he the primary author of AA’s seminal literature, but he wrote numerous articles for the Grapevine and carried on extensive correspondence with AA members around the world.

I’m certainly no Bill Wilson, but I am privileged and most grateful that I can emulate his positive example by copiously writing to help me clarify to myself and others how I maintain the gift of sobriety a day at a time. It is one of the primary tools I use to give away what I have, so that I continue to experience the daily reprieve.

Getting the often-jumbled thoughts which cascade haphazardly in different directions organized in some semblance of order, whether on paper or computer screen, helps me sort out the cacophony of sometimes conflicting feelings and misperceptions that I experience even in longterm recovery. When I attempt to communicate what, I am thinking/feeling/experiencing to myself, it helps me to discern or clarify what actions I need to take to gain relief from my sometimes-confused state of dis-ease and discord.

From time to time, I look back through my journals to get a sense of how I’m doing compared with other times in recovery. For example, during the week before each New Year, l look back at entries made at the turn of each year to get a sense of what issues I’ve dealt with in the past. This is often a source of great gratitude for how gifted I am in the present!

I am most grateful for the practical tool of journaling. It is a gift that has not only been essential at times for staying sober, but through journaling I get to evolve into a better, more aware, more enlightened human being than if I were not to utilize it.

Journaling helps keep me grounded, here and now, to accept the things I cannot change, to change the things I can, and to have the wisdom to know the difference.

I get not only to experience sobriety, I get to experience evolving serenity, even during times of distress and discord. It just don’t get any better than that!

About the Author, Thomas B.

Sober from his primary drug of addiction, Colt .45 — preferably by the Case — since October 14, 1972, Thomas is grateful for the full life he has experienced in recovery for over 44 years. He’s been active at the group level throughout his recovery, and for two years served as GSR for Portland, Oregon’s Beyond Belief secular AA group, which he and his wife, Jill, founded in 2014.

Currently he and Jill live in Wenona, IL. with their dog Kiera, and two cats, Savannah and Elsa. They occasionally attend Quad-A secular AA meetings in Chicago, and they regularly attend the secular “Live and Let Live” group in Bloomington, IL Thomas has been a regular contributor to AA Beyond Belief and AA Agnostica.

Photography

The photography used for this article was created by Jan A.

In Bill and Buddha’s Company

By Somen, Originally published on October 30, 2016 at aabeyondbelief.com

“I know that the day will come when my sight of this earth shall be lost and life will take its leave in silence drawing the last curtain over my eyes” Rabindranath Tagore

My last day (When? How? Where?): I have a dream. My two sons are near to me while I am taking my last breath. I could hear their gentle voices. They are thanking AA for my sober death.

November 2005, my first day in AA: Sitting at the last bench in a primary school in Kolkata, India. I try to listen to what the speakers are saying. One thing struck me. Each and every speaker is quoting God. I am finished. When the chairperson asks me if I want to say anything, I say that I do not believe in God.

1983, my experiment with alcohol: I was the organizing secretary of our college fest. After hectic activities, all day I saw my friends were busy drinking something behind the backstage. ‘What is it?’ I asked. ‘Taste it,’ they replied. The chemistry clicked. Love at first drink.

December 22 1998, my father died, when I don’t know: My father died. I was unable to be before him due to my last night’s heavy drinking. In the morning, my mother pushed me up and told me that my father died. When, I don’t know.

1995-2005, 10 years of solitude: My brother died in 1994 due to a CVA (or stroke) and for that I held myself responsible. I made several mistakes for which he had to suffer a lot due to lack of proper treatment and ultimately he died. That incident brought me into massive depression. I combined antidepressants with alcohol. In the meantime, I married a beautiful lady. In the course of time my two sons arrived.

Suddenly sex joined alcohol and depression. I became a victim of SAD (Sex, Alcohol, and Depression). I became a regular customer of Kolkata’s famous brothel. One night, when the full moon was up and stars were twinkling in the clear sky I, partially in black-out condition, wanted to enter in mother’s womb, not to return back in the universe again. My nirvana should come through a sexual route, I thought. I met a new girl. Both of us were ready to play the game.

After the game was over I discovered that I played the game without protection. I felt the smell of death. Terrible fear for three days. Finally, I went for an HIV test. The counsellor took seven days for my report. When I went for the report after seven days, she told me to wait for another 15 days because my blood sample was sent for recheck. Another 15 days to hear my death sentence? I thought. That night I wrote a letter to my wife to forgive me. I kissed my sleeping wife, two sons. I touched my ailing mother’s feet and went for suicide but failed. I returned home and consoled my weeping wife saying that all is well. That reflects my report. All is well.

1970-1983, childhood memories and young mind: My father was an officer of the government of India and had to travel various places throughout India. We missed him. My mother was a teacher. Though my parents were in service, I don’t understand even now why our family suffered a lot as far as financial matters are concerned. When my father was at home, constant battle between my parents was a regular drama in our home. It shaped my childhood mind badly.

But deep down in my heart I wanted to become a writer of history and Bengali (my language of origin; Rabindranath Tagore won the Noble Prize for writing “GITANJALI” in Bengali; Bengali is also the national language of BANLADESH). Bengali novelists attracted me. Night after night I would absorb fascinating stories. At the same time, European and Latin American writers opened my mind.

Camus, Kafka, and Gabriel Garcia Marques took my head. Suddenly the stock market was calling me. I

wanted to become rich. All my savings vanished in two weeks. My disease of alcoholism and depression were aggravated and alcohol became my master.

2005-2016, in Bill and Buddha’s company: In 1997 I read an article in a local newspaper. The article was about alcoholics and how they became sober with the help of AA. Then I was an active alcoholic. The first thought came into my mind after reading the article was that maybe I need it someday. From 2002 I tried on my own to quit alcohol. I remember the day in May 2006, after heavy drinking, I returned home and I cried and I cried and I cried and told my wife that I didn’t want to drink again. That day in my life is the day of “Turning the Wheel.” The article about AA which I read in 1997 came into my mind. I checked a website, contacted AA, went to meetings every evening, collected a Big Book, and read Bill’s story not once, not twice, but several times.

I could identify with Bill’s pain and sufferings, as if Bill was describing my own story. Bill W became my Hero No 1. Another hero was waiting in the sky and he was BUDDHA. One full moon night while I was smoking a cigarette at the rooftop of our housing complex, suddenly the sky was calling me. Watching the full moon mindfully the thought of BUDDHA came into my mind. That moment was one of the AHA moments in my life. I started reading about Bill and Buddha. The more I read about them, the more I wanted to know them.

Then I was an agnostic and tried to believe in a GOD who could save my life. I tried to believe in GOD and I became atheist (laugh). I believe that BUDDHA is the greatest atheist in this world. So, I followed him. I went to Buddhagaya on full moon day of May 2007 where 2550 years before, meditating under a peepal tree, prince Goutama got enlightenment. That night, sitting under the same tree, I committed myself not to waste my life. I don’t have to turn back again from that day. That day also became the last day of my 20 years of cigarette smoking. After three-four years of traditional AA. I became tired hearing GOD things day after day. But I never quit meetings. I checked internet about online atheist AA meetings, I found two. I became member of them.

From there I came into contact with the AA Agnostica website. I am a regular reader of it. From there I found AA Beyond Belief. This website opened a whole new world for me. My loneliness vanished. I am not an outsider in AA anymore. I am a part of a whole new AA fellowship. I owe my gratitude to AA Beyond Belief. Thank you, friends.

July 31, 2016, my serenity wish: My name is Somen and I am an alcoholic and atheist. I am celebrating my 10th year of sobriety in AA (though the actual date is July 26th, my home group meets every Sunday-that is why I am celebrating today). I am celebrating a process and not an accomplishment. This group is not an atheist/agnostic group. Nowhere in India you will find such AA group. Needless to say, that I am in AA and an outsider in F2F meeting rooms in AA in India.

I hear here and there in the meeting rooms and outside the meeting rooms also that I am in a danger zone because of my no faith in God. I laugh. But at the same time, I share my true story (that I am an alcoholic atheist) now a days. Few members respect my honesty. Most of the members don’t understand Bill W’s message of inclusiveness in AA. May a day come when another fellow joined me so that we can form an atheist AA group and we can start our meeting with the serenity wish: “May we have the serenity …”

The journey from “I” to “WE” is not too far, I hope.

About the Author, Somen

Somen is a senior Optometrist living in Kolkata, India with his wife and children. He celebrated ten years of sobriety this past July.

Artwork by Kathryn F.