The Best of Grapevine, Vols. 1,2,3. Группа авторов
meetings anyway. I told her it was something I had to do to keep from ever getting so sick again from alcohol. I finished with the rhetorical question, “You don’t want that to happen, do you?”
“Oh no!” she said. “It’s no good for anyone to be alone!”
I wasn’t sure whether she was thinking of me or of herself as being alone, or even whether those rather cryptic words simply reflected her limited command of language, rather than the more profound significance I was attaching to them. Now, I see that she really had felt the terror of loneliness, of estrangement, of isolation beginning to envelop her. She has just told us that the memories of those past days are still with her. I hope with all my heart that no more than the memory is there, that the feelings themselves are gone.
I do not take her for granted. All I have to do, if I think “our kids, the monsters,” is remember how my drunken ravings sent her fleeing in terror. I want to do all that I can for her and, especially, with her. I expect no praise for this; it is neither a penance nor a burden. It’s one of my greatest joys, one of the rewards beyond the price of my new life.
K.C., Racine, Wis.
Don’t Hide In AA
January 1967
Around our AA program we generally hear, “Keep active in AA and it will help you to remain sober.” What about our activity on the outside, in our daily lives? I have seen AA members whose entire personal activity seems to be centered on AA to the exclusion of everything else. I may be wrong, but I do feel that this is a form of hiding, something like what we did when we hid behind the bottle, and just another escape from reality. It is actually using AA as a crutch.
Of course for those who have little or nothing else to focus their lives on, AA must be the pivot of their existence in order to keep them sober. But for the average AA member, who has a job, a family, good health, and is, of course, sober, it seems to me that activity in all areas is essential for his well-being. People in AA aren’t the only ones who can benefit from our sobriety, and the world, as I see it, now that I have been sober nearly three years, is a wonderful place filled with wonderful things to do. I, for one, can’t find the time to accomplish all the things I want to do each day.
A word of warning here, too. Don’t overstep yourself. Activity, like all of man’s pursuits, should be done with moderation. Overreaching ourselves may lead to overtiredness, to fatigue, to rotten thinking, to drinking; it’s as easy as that.
Inactivity, to me, is a form of death, and I see AA as a program of action. I came into AA in order to live, and everything that lives grows. None of the Steps, except the First and the Second, can be taken without action. We have to work hard in order to change ourselves, and we have to learn to grow outside AA as well as inside it. We can close ourselves up behind four walls and emerge only for AA activities and remain sober, but I don’t think we can achieve happiness that way.
I may offend some good AA members by my next statement, but I do feel that some of us in AA think we have achieved Nirvana by getting sober, and that this is an end in itself. We may go on for several years giving lip service to the program and not reap its full benefits because we are still afraid to rejoin the human race and go out and face reality—that is, lead a normal, productive life.
We are told very often, especially by old-timers in the program, “Utilize, don’t analyze.’’ This, to me, means living my life the way God meant me to live it and not the way I was living it while I was drinking. I had lost my husband and was in danger of losing my three lovely young children and my sanity and finally my life, through the use and abuse of alcohol. With the help of my sponsor, good AA friends, and the Twelve Steps of our program, I have been able to stay sober, one day at a time, for nearly three years, and today am fortunate in having not only my children, but my husband (who is now also in AA) again with me.
I realize I am one of the more fortunate ones, and can show concrete evidence of the benefits of sobriety in terms of my own life. I believe that without AA I would certainly be dead. Instead I have a home and family, my health and sanity and, greatest of all, sobriety. I know that I am fortunate in being able to enjoy life because I have a lot of physical energy. In terms of my own sobriety, I find that to sit around doing nothing for too long is bad for me. I need a certain amount of time for quiet and meditation, but in general I have to be up and doing; this is my nature. The restlessness that, while I was drinking, was nothing more than a destructive drive, can now, through sobriety, be channeled in constructive areas, and the same energy be applied for good, not evil.
Action to the newcomer may mean just taking a walk when he gets the jitters. Even reading can be a form of activity—at least we are thinking of something besides ourselves while we are doing it. Keeping busy, no matter how, is a good way to avoid self-pity. We can find new interests, new scope for our returning enthusiasm for life (which may seem a long time in coming, but does return).
“Hard work never killed anyone” is an old maxim, and a true one, but apathy can stunt and warp the mind. And what did we get sober for if not to live and enjoy life? AA gives us the tools to do this. In our Twelve Steps we have a blueprint for living. I read things into them which I could not do in my first year of sobriety. I am learning to work them to the best of my ability, and I see constant changes in myself and my attitudes, and in this way I know I am growing.
But, most of all, I think we should try to get with it, get back into the swing of life. We all belong to society and we each have our role. If we don’t like the role we have, we must try, if we can, to change it. Our Serenity Prayer, in which we ask for the courage to change the things we can, is therefore, in part, a prayer of action. Nothing will change for us if we don’t give a helping hand. Neither God nor AA can help us if we are not open to help.
There are many physical and mental outlets for our pent-up energies. Don’t let them atrophy, or I believe the precious gift of sobriety will turn back on itself and decay. In my own case I know that doing my housework was a form of therapy in the first days of sobriety. I still use it to work off pent-up emotions and sometimes can actually get rid of a resentment or anger that way. My husband calls me a compulsive housewife. In my drinking days I used to argue and resent this, but now I just smile because I know (and I know he knows too) that for me this form of activity is essential to my well-being. We all have our own gimmicks to hang onto, and this is one of mine.
So to all AAs, newcomers and oldsters alike, I say again, keep busy. Rejoin the world, and find it again the exciting place it can be when we are not viewing it through the distortion of an upended bottle. And don’t use AA as a crutch. Come out from behind that shell and give a little to the outside world and you will get back a lot in return. Use the wonderful AA program in all areas of your life. Take heart; live your lives to the utmost now that you are sober. Isn’t this our way of giving thanks to God and AA for the wonderful gift of sobriety? Use your sobriety, don’t abuse it with inaction both in and out of AA. To me, an active sobriety is a happy sobriety, within the reach of us all.
B.G., Forest Hills, N.Y.
Tradition Five
Each group has but one primary purpose—to carry its message to the alcoholic who still suffers.
June 1970
On my fourth sober AA day I was sitting alone in one of our musty old meeting rooms, very sad and very broke. All the AAs had seemed very kind in their desire to help, but none of them had mentioned money. And, like thousands of other new members, I believed my biggest problems were financial. Yet not one person had offered a loan.
Then, suddenly, one of those big, handsome, gray-templed, well-dressed old-timers strode in with a friendly smile widening his face. He stuck out his hand and squeezed mine. “If I can help you any way at all, just say so, and I’ll do it!’’ he declared heartily.
Trying to sound as if I were merely asking for a match, I said, “I hope so. You see, I need to borrow two thousand dollars.’’
His silence was total.
But