Transformation: this is the word that is embodied in the Twelfth Step of Alcoholics Anonymous. It can take many forms and manifest itself in a variety of ways, yet this is the culmination of our work. Once the Steps have been completed in order and in full; we become different beings. We are transformed into instruments of the Divine Will. Once we have experienced this Spiritual awakening, God can commence on his miracles. Because we were once broken, and now repaired our commission is clear.

What then does this spiritual awakening look like? What does it feel like? How will I know that it has happened? To answer these questions, we might draw on the experience of people who have had one. According to the selected writings of a co-founder of our little society recorded in the book As Bill Sees It, for some, it is “a great white light…on a mountain with only the Spirit blowing.” For others, “we find that bit by bit we can discard the old life for a new life…” For many others (including myself) it presents as what William James termed the “educational variety” in that they “develop slowly over a period of time.”  But one thing is clear; you will know when it has happened. Fast or slow, you will be able to see the results with clarity and near scientific accuracy.

Not only must we share our newfound gift with others, but we must continue to live within the sunlight of the Spirit on a daily basis. It is no small irony that in order to live in the sunlight of the Spirit and practice these principles daily; we must be willing to serve others at every turn, especially alcoholics. For me, that means looking past the often neglected outer shell of a newcomer. It means pushing past the strange clothes, the odd smell, or the inarticulate ramblings of a diseased mind. For me, listening to the pain lurking behind the tattered façade of ego brings me to a condition of humble awareness of my commission. In order to live the principles, I must be an example of those principles. Sobriety does not come on my own terms. I am sober today simply by the grace of God.

By this point, we have established contact with a higher power and He has removed certain glaring defect from our character; defects that not too very long ago made it impossible for us to coexist with our fellow human beings. The creator of all things has drawn near to us and we have been transformed. Of course, this initial transformation—some describe it as a “pink cloud”—requires spiritual growth to maintain. We must evolve into the creatures that our Power would have us be. It is, very often, unclear to us what exactly we are to become. In essence, we are asked to discern what the Creator of the cosmos has planned for each of us. This is no small task. But the, how do we go about it then?

The easy answer is that we maintain contact with God through the conduits of prayer and meditation. These are perhaps the most direct pathways to that power which has rendered us sober. The actual practice of prayer and meditation is quite another thing. Because we alcoholics like to over-complicate even the simplest of tasks; the First 100 have laid out a map
for us to follow. While we may be tempted into over-stepping our spirituality by embracing all manner of current novelty in prayer, there is no substitute for what actually works. The Twelve Steps are based on what works. Therefore, we go into action…

It is no more than an hour or so after that first meeting that we, as newcomers, are exposed to the power of prayer. The Serenity Prayer is a powerful invocation of the Great Spirit as well as an admonition for us to be humble before Him. Prayers are petitions and prayer lifts our hearts in thanksgiving. They are the human spirit’s song to the Creator in times of
happiness and in times of sorrow. Prayer is our calling out to the only Power that can make us whole again.

Meditation, on the other hand, is a different aspect of our multi-faceted spirituality. While in prayer we ask God to reveal His will for us that day, it is in meditation
that we derive what exactly that may be. It is in meditation we try to listen for God’s often very subtle communications.

By now, we have certainly made a fair bit of progress upon our spiritual path. Although we may be blind to it, others are not. Perhaps we have heard remarks about our change of countenance. Our family members are slowly returning to our lives from their exile with a renewed sense of hope. Holiday occasions have become happy occasions as opposed to a physical and emotional plundering of those around us. These laudable milestones have not come easy and neither does further progress. We are all destined to slide back into anger, frustration, and resentment; we could not be classified as human otherwise.

All of us, at one time or another, have returned not to the pints of John Barleycorn—but to the draughts of our fermented instincts. We have become drunk on our indignation. After sleeping it off, like an alcoholic hangover the pain sets in. But this is different. We feel sickness in our
souls. This pain is more than a superficial, bodily ache; it reaches down into our deepest being and festers like an infected splinter. If it is not immediately removed it will become septic. Step Ten is the surgical tool used to excise such debris from our souls.

It is imperative to recall two things:

1. We are new to this kind of self-reflection life
   and “We shall look for progress, not perfection” (12×12; p.91; 1981).
2. This procedure must be performed at once.

Some of us stick on semantics here, picking out the “when we were wrong” phrasing of the step. Notice it states in clear terms when we were wrong, not if we were wrong. There is no out for us, no excuse that the other person started it or was at fault. Whenever we feel anger and then act
upon it we are in the wrong. Our program of recovery is not a criterion for assigning blame. It is a design for a life of self-reflection and love of our fellow creatures. They get all of the benefit of the doubt while we get none of it. We look for our part in the equation and turn a blind eye to theirs. We then humbly ask for their forgiveness, hoping they understand our twisted nature and our sincere desire to straighten out. If they do not, we pray fervently for them always wishing their good. Very often they will come around. Sometime it may take a little while. In either case, it was our action or reaction that caused the schism and we are responsible for its prompt repair.

 “Some of us clung to the claim that when drinking we never hurt anybody but ourselves” (As Bill SeesIt, p. 64). And that’s how it was, too! Drinking might have been Hell, but it was our own Hell. We constantly lived under the delusion that we were only hurting ourselves. It was almost like we thought we were living in a vacuum. When we were in our bottles, we sometimes quite conveniently overlooked the fact that we were not islands. It was easier to forget that we were husbands and wives; fathers and mothers; sons and daughters; friends and colleagues. Our alcoholic tendencies touched all of them. They have witnessed a litany of destruction and had fallen victim countless times to our pursuit of happiness. But which one of us could see it? We were blinded by the voracious nature of our instincts and everything else fell by the wayside. If anyone deserves an amends it is those people closest to us. By default, these are the people we have hurt the deepest. Realizing this, we turn our attention to those on the periphery. These are the individuals that are perhaps the hardest to reach.

There are people on the list that we can hardly speak their names much less even think about making an amends. This is the group that we believe harmed us more than we ever harmed them. They are the employer who fired us; the friends who had us locked up; the police who abused us; the bartender who cut us off; the teachers who flunked us; and the bill collector who harassed us. Perhaps more hurtful it was the family member who deserted us in our darkest hour, leaving us to drown in the decisions we have made. These people also deserve an amends. However, here we were the catalyst. We were the bad actors. It was our insistence that others cater to our needs. From the cashier at the dry cleaners to the well-meaning extended family; we were the reason they reacted harshly to us. We must never forget our part in the process. They were reacting to us like a burn victim reacts to fire. And, we must never forget that it was us who lit the match.

Step Nine is also a reminder that we must never clear own slate at the expense of others. We must not destroy other houses in the process of cleaning our own. We are prohibited from causing needless pain behind the shield of commonly accepted social or moral constructs. As direct by the Twelve and Twelve, “It does not lighten our burden when we recklessly make the crosses of others heavier” (p. 86). Revealing our misadventures to husbands, wives, or other family members can result in a wide swath of wreckage. As alcoholics, we are mandated to be rigorously honest with ourselves and our motives not brutally honest at the expense of others. The point here is to act upon our own inventories instead of taking someone else’s. We are little qualified to run our own lives much less someone else’s.

Step Nine is an action step. It is a difficult thing to humble ourselves before our family, friends, and employers to admit that we have wronged them. They may receive us with relief and gratitude. They may receive us with suspicion and disdain. In some cases, they may not receive us at all. The crux of the matter for Step Nine is our humility before the fellow creatures we have harmed and to let them see us as we truly are.

By this point, we are more than halfway through. If we have
been honest in the application of the previous seven steps, then we have seen much in our lives change. We have come a long way in starting to clean away the wreckage of our past and demonstrated a real desire to reform our lives for the good of those around us. The steps require us to continuously focus the high beam of criticism on our own character, all the while giving our neighbor the benefit of the doubt. This can be a painful experience and we become tempted to concentrate on their shortcomings instead. We always feel a bit superior when we exhume the bones in our neighbor’s closet. But, the spirit of Step Eight involves forgiveness. We must be ready to forgive those who trespass against us if we are to have a chance at lasting sobriety.

Fortunately, most of the people we need to forgive have been
written down when we completed Step Four. There may be a few others we need to include and upon starting Step Eight, we reflect on who should be included. Then, we write yet again. We write down names of people that we have harmed, no matter how long ago. The mere passage of time does not relieve us of our responsibilities. There is no statute of limitations on forgiveness. When we murder someone else’s character we must be held accountable. Whether or not they may have reaped just desserts at our hands is not for us to say. We do not dispense justice, moral or otherwise. We are not qualified to manage our own lives, much less someone else’s. Yet that is exactly what we have tried to do over and over again with our friends, family, and even complete strangers. Therefore, their names are recorded in our Ledger of Amends.

Once we have identified who we have harmed, we then must
become willing to make amends to them. How many times have we said, “I will never say sorry to person X! They have hurt me too deeply and they do not deserve an amends.” This is not willingness, it is contempt. Willingness comes through prayer and an honest desire to change. There have, indeed, been those in our past that have hurt us. We sometimes have been the victims of others’ misdeeds. However, this is an opportunity for us to forgive them and apologize for our own reactions. We must not pass this up. We must leave the door open to forgiveness, even if it is only a crack. Some people on our list will be easier to forgive than others. It is easy to be willing with those we want to forgive or those that we know will receive us with forgiveness and warmth. But, then we are living on our terms, not God’s. We must make amends to all we have harmed, not just those we think will be easy. It was the easier, softer way that kept us in the bottle for so long.

Sobriety is not an entitlement because we show up at meetings or make coffee. It is a gift we are given on a daily basis through the application of the Twelve Steps. We do not get to choose which steps to complete or in what order. We do not get to choose which aspects to complete based on our personal tastes. We must complete all of them, especially the hard ones such as Step Eight.

Will He? Can He? Perhaps it also begs the question: why would He? The first two questions are answered readily with the following statement: Only if the Higher Power we have chosen is indeed greater than us. This of course disqualifies a chair, a light bulb, or an AA home group. The First 100 were very specific about their God and it was their documented experience that
God could and would remove our shortcomings upon certain conditions. First, we must be entirely ready. Second, we must be humble. The first condition was met upon the completion of Step Six. The condition of humility is an entirely alien concept to us alcoholics. Mostly, we think of ourselves and our needs before anything or anyone else. It is our pattern to make sure that our every instinct, desire, and whim is met before we will even consider meeting a larger need in our neighbor—and even then, only if it does not cause us too much anxiety or inconvenience. Better still, if we can leverage our neighbor’s unfortunate circumstance to our own advantage then we will feel a bit superior and take pity on the poor soul. Contempt is what we are more used to feeling; an emotion that is the exact opposite of humility. What is it then to be humble?

To paraphrase a passage from Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, humility is a condition which we desire to seek and do the will of God, above all else. However we must supplant our will with God’s, a heretofore impossible task. This is what is required for us to successfully complete, not only Step Seven, but all of the Steps. Any alcoholic with any sort of joyful sobriety will be the first to tell you that a humble disposition is a daily challenge, but a necessary one to maintain a relationship with the Creator of the Universe. Some days are hard, most are easy but a worthwhile pursuit nonetheless. This brings us back to our third question as to why God would even bother to remove our shortcomings. I would never presume to speak for God; however I will indulge a hypothesis: our shortcomings are an obstacle to our usefulness to Him. If we are indeed instruments of His peace, love, and charity; then our shortcomings would render that instrument useless. It is not only in our best interest to remain joyfully sober; God has a vested interest as well. Again, I will attempt to theorize: we were meant to love and to serve God and it is His will that we love and serve one another. The shortcomings we have identified in Step Four, confessed in Step Five, and were entirely ready to have removed in Step Six; now can be removed by the only person capable of restoring our freedom: God. This freedom, a gift of grace and charity by the ultimate good Himself, can now be used as it was intended. The obstacles have been removed and now God can really get to work!

A wall. Dostoevsky used the wall as a metaphor, describing it as a barrier in the search for human Authenticity. For many of our number, Step Six may present such a profile. Once the first Five Steps have been accomplished and we become vaguely aware that we have changed; Step Six looms before us with a demand to remove all of our defects. Not just one or two. Not just some or a few—all of them must go. Some of us figured that we were in the clear once our daily craving for alcohol had disappeared; or, at least subsided to a manageable level. After all, was it not John Barleycorn that hounded us day after day, bending our will to his? Did not our partners, friends, spouses and children decry our addiction to inebriation? This seemed to us common sense: remove the drink, and then remove our problems. Our problems would dissipate with the gray fog of our hangovers. Once a few days or weeks or months of sobriety had been strung together like beads on a string; all would be right with the world and the business of conducting our lives on our terms could once again commence. However, we had overlooked one, small detail…

The Catch: booze was not our problem. We were the problem…all along. The Wall presents itself again. In Dostoevsky’s tale, the alcoholic and the spurious have much in common. Both will sit and curse the Wall and then assign blame to the innocent for its existence. Both will deny the Wall completely and blame others for our lack of progress. Step Six requires us to dig, and dig deep for our readiness. Only then, can we begin to address the barriers before us; manifested in such subtle ways as to sometimes escape detection. Fortunately, we have written them down and shared them with another human being as well as our Higher Power. We have seen the obstacles and have acknowledged them in the light of day. Now, it is time to be rid of them.

And we must be entirely ready to be rid of them. As C.S. Lewis puts it, we must “throw up the sponge.” God takes what we give Him and allows us to keep what we choose. Some of our defects are like a security blanket. We are kept warm by the intricate designs we have woven over the years of drinking. However, this blanket we must give up voluntarily. God will not pry it from our grubby, clenched fists only to watch us throw a tantrum. We must lay the blanket of our defects at His feet and implore Him to take it out of our sight because we can no longer carry it. It has become too heavy. Then, and only then, will He take the burden upon Himself and send us on our merry way along the broad highway.

“Admitted to God, to Ourselves, and to Another Human Being the Exact Nature of Our Wrongs”

Madness. That is what this is. What’s more, there is no good reason to involve others in my wrecked past; except, of course, to brag a bit about my exploits while under the influence. Otherwise, why should I drag the ugliest part of myself into the harsh light of day? “My God!” we protest. “What have I got myself into here?”  Of course, the other end of this spectrum is the response that “I don’t care if I need an audience with the pope; please help me to stop drinking…”

Most of us fall somewhere in the middle, accompanied by a few complaints to our sponsor. Of course the first question is “why?” Like children asking their parents why the sun sets or the moon rises, we ask “Why must we actually tell someone else? After all, I know I have been a horrible person! That is why I am here. Isn’t that enough?”

It is not. Not by a mile.

The reason is this: we did not drink in a vacuum and we cannot recover in a vacuum. The demons we conjured up during our sprees will only serve to haunt us should we try to lock them away. They will take the form of our families and children and they will accuse us of cowardice. They will assume the guise of our employers and point a finger of blame at us. All the while, we buy into that recycled guilt and we are forced to relive every sin, every transgression—until madness ensues. No, these demons cannot be contained. They must be destroyed or they will haunt us and undermine our recovery at every turn. Once we have written, we are compelled to confess.

Of course, this is not a new practice. Confession is an ancient practice dating back millennia in human history. It is just new to us as alcoholics. Anything requiring humility is new to us. If there ever was a springboard to renewal, this is it. This is a time for us to disgorge our worst offenses and scrub our souls clean with the healing power of forgiveness; forgiveness from our Higher Power and our fellow creatures. The light must shine on every corner of our innermost selves, and we are to tell someone else about our demons; so, our fellow creatures can help us. This is, after all, the point of recovery: one alcoholic helping another to remain sober. This is, after all, the point of humankind: to love one another.

Searching. Fearless. These are the attributes that must define our Fourth Step. We must turn the high-powered lens we once used to diminish others onto ourselves. Step Four is not meant to be comfortable or pretty. It is not meant for us to revel in our honesty with a pat-on-the-back once we have completed this vital step. Step Four is another arrow lodged into the ego that has brought us to so much ruin. It is an opportunity to for us to survey the wreckage we have caused and how we have caused it. If we are rigorously honest, then we conclude that it has been our plans, designs, and demands that have been the source of ours and others’ misery. Like concentric circles spreading into still waters, our boulders of selfishness splashed down and served as the epicenter of many a tidal wave.

Yet, in the midst of all the debris, there is hope. Indeed, there is a solution. Step Four is a headlong dive into the restoration of our relationship and our spirituality. How then, do we commence on this massive task of war reparations? First, we procure a paper and pen. Something mystical occurs when ink flows from our pens and humility from our souls. Why then, you may ask, can’t I just know what I have done and be sorry for it? Do I really need to go to the trouble of sitting down and writing? The short answer is: Yes, we must write. The action of writing our resentments down has the effect of disgorging a disease from our bodies. Each column we write relieves us of the burdens of hatred and regret. If we simply intellectualize what we already know, the pathology becomes a permanent resident in our psyche. It fuses to us, becoming one with our character. Because we are inclined toward self preservation, our minds will trick us into thinking that this is not so serious after all. Only in writing does our action take a definite form and only after that can we exorcise those demons that have ruled us from the sewers of alcoholism.

Step Four is necessary for our survival. It requires action. Specifically, it requires searching and fearless action. We must not allow any demon to live. All of them must be exposed to the light of truth. We must not be afraid and draw courage from the Higher Power we accepted in Step Three. And, we must write. Once we have written down our resentments, the objects of our resentments, and which of our instincts have been abraded; we must be sure we have complete the task. Should we experience a familiar discomfort as to whether something might count as a resentment, write it down. Should we feel a nagging, almost pleading resistance to writing take heart! That is the last vestiges of the demon fighting for its life to remain in your soul; and, know that you are very close to expelling it. Write like you never have before. Write with the purpose of a survivor’s errand, fighting for your own life. Upon completion of Step Four, immediately move to the next step and never allow yourself a pat on the back.

We now commence work upon Step Three only after we have fully admitted complete defeat over alcohol and have come to the realization that we are indeed insane and that no human power can relieve us of our malady. As the Step directs us, we must take this time to decide. This decision is neither easy, nor should it be taken lightly, as it will indelibly shape our lives through sustained joy and sobriety. Here might be a good point for a word of caution: once this decision is made, it cannot be undone through any sort of rationalization or a wishful return to our previous blissful ignorance. Despite our wish for the escape of inebriation, the truth is a bit troublesome in that it will no longer bend to our twisted perceptions. We can no longer fit the world into our little boxes of horror and pull the strings of our friends, neighbors, or families. Indeed, Step Three liberates us from the burden of responsibility that only rightly belongs to Providence. But, we must be willing.

Where does this willingness to surrender originate? It springs forth from the completion of Steps One and Two. After these introductory suggestions have been taken, willingness washes over our spirit—soaking us through and through with an eagerness to begin healing. Then, like the inexplicable force of gravity, we find ourselves drawn toward the Power. Our willingness, tenuous as it may be, begins to retract the heavy slabs of doubt that have kept us in the darkness of our self-constructed dungeons. Slivers of illumination peek through the cracks in our egotism and we begin to see that there is a Power greater than mankind and that it just might do for us what we have not been able to do for ourselves.

What then, the honest seeker will ask, exactly is this Power? It is of paramount importance to distinguish between a God of our understanding and a god of our creation. This point cannot be overstressed. The demarcation lies in that which actually exists and what we, as alcoholics, create through our own imaginative faculties. It is the difference between sobriety and insanity; salvation and ruin. The Power which actually exists, that which is greater than us, takes many forms. It is up to each alcoholic to arrive at his own explanation and understanding of that Power. Under no circumstances, however, are we permitted to create our own god. A deity of our own creation is not, by definition, greater than us. No creation is greater than its creator. If the god of our understanding is the same as the god of our own creation, then this power is not adequate to provide us with the defense against that first drink. If we find ourselves defenseless against drink due to a lack of a sufficient higher power, then we are destined to slip. It is only a matter of time. The essence of Step Three, then, is that we arrive at our own understanding of the Power that has existed beyond time and dimension—a Power that is both ancient and new; and, is willing to restore us to a life in deep communion with Him and with our fellow creatures.