One of the things I love about Al-Anon is that I can go to almost any meeting, anywhere, and hear the same wonderful words: the Suggested Opening and the Suggested Closing. Just the sound of them brings my heart rate down and unclenches my shoulders. I’m safe, home, among friends, whether I happen to have ever met them before or not.
Some of the most helpful shares I’ve ever heard have been based on the words of the Opening and Closing. A meeting focused on studying them would be well spent, especially as the opening readings become “get your coffee and find your earbuds” time (I’m looking at you, Zoom).
But there are a few words in there that, taken out of context, can keep me from maximum recovery.
Disclaimer: What follows is my own, very biased opinion. But I think “Take what you liked and leave the rest” are the most misunderstood words in Recoveryland.
Notice what that phrase refers to? “The opinions expressed here.” In other words, we are encouraged to take what we liked of others’ shares during the meeting and leave the rest.
Here comes the opinion: We miss out when we apply “Take what you liked and leave the rest” to the program as a whole. Because, sick puppy that I am, what I like and what I need are often not the same.*
The program invites me to willingly submit to the spiritual discipline of the Twelve Steps. Self says, Why do I have to work a program? The crazy people in my life are the problem! They’re the ones who should be “working” something, not me!
Step 1 says, Admit your powerlessness. Ego says, I can handle this, I just need some new strategies. I can figure this out. As soon as these people tell me how they got their alcoholics sober, I’m out of here.
Experienced members encourage me to get a sponsor. My false self says, Don’t let anyone see you! It’s not safe to be honest. No one could ever love the real you. Besides, you don’t deserve attention anyway. Better handle this by yourself.
Step 5 tells me to admit the exact nature of my wrongs. Pride and Fear double-team me on this one. First of all, what defects? This mess is their fault! And if I do admit my mistakes, someone will use them as ammunition against me.
Use the phone list?? No way am I calling a stranger! Why would they want to listen to me anyway??
Service? I’ve got enough on my hands, thanks. I can’t handle my own life, much less help anybody else.
The slogans? They’re so simplistic. How can that possibly help? If I needed a cutesy saying, I’d look for a wall hanging at a garage sale.
And so it goes, until ego and fear have talked me out of every program tool that could possibly help me.
When I first got here, everything scared me. I couldn’t imagine ever sharing honestly like the people around me did. I didn’t even know how I felt, much less how to talk about the things that were really going on. The Steps looked like Mount Everest. Confiding in a sponsor seemed impossible. Talk to people? What, are you kidding? I’m a very special snowflake with unique problems! No one could possibly understand!
Yup, I need a program.
The basic idea of recovery is this: Here are a bunch of people with my same problem, who are handling it better than me. I’m going to find out what they’re doing and do it.
Left to myself, I would have turned down almost every single one of the lifelines the program offered me. I would have bought the book, gone home, shut the door, and tried to fix myself–as if that had worked the previous thousand times I’d tried.
What kept me coming back, and gave me hope, was the laughter. These people had all my same problems, but they were somehow okay. They laughed, they cried, they told the truth, and if there was any possibility of having what they had, I wanted it. I was desperate, and I drank the Kool-Aid.
I’m so grateful now for the series of crises that made me willing to do anything to get better. Without that desperation, I would not have embraced the whole program. I would have taken what my sick self liked and left the rest–the scary parts, the difficult parts, the things outside my very narrow comfort zone. And I would still be bonkers. It’s horrible to imagine where I’d be now if I hadn’t gone all in when I did.
I have a disease that never takes a day off. It’s progressive. It’s cunning, baffling, powerful. And it’s a hell of a lot stronger than me.
That means I need every single program tool I can get. I need everything this program can give me, all the time. If I only take what I like, I might reject the very thing that God is giving me to grow through today’s challenges.
That’s because my “picker” is still driven by ego sometimes. It chooses comfort at any cost, even at the cost of my spiritual health. It steers me away from anything that God might use to reduce its power in my life. If I choose which program tools to apply based on my feelings, I’m screwed. My disease will make me shrink away from the very ones I need the most. I need grace, and good examples, and the experience-strength-and-hope of those who have my same problems and are doing better than me.
I’m so grateful that the first group God brought me to was a healthy group with a lot of strong recovery, with members who used multiple program tools and showed me by example how to use them too.
Look at the people in the room who you really admire–the ones who have what you want. Chances are that their program toolbox contains more than one meeting a week. Ask them how they’re doing it! Try something you haven’t tried before. Pick up a new tool. There’s always something new to learn, always a new level of recovery waiting for us.
Tried a new program tool this week? Tell us about it in the comments!
Keep coming back!
*Thanks, Tim M!
