Tools to find peace
About twenty-four years ago, I went to my first AA meeting. I was an angry single mother who drank daily. At first, I was astounded by how much you knew about me–you seemed to tell my story every time you spoke. I was overjoyed when I realized that, with your help, I could live a life without alcohol.
But that pink cloud attitude slowly changed to one of discontent. I began to see many differences between you and me. You were mostly men who smoked and could go to meetings whenever it pleased you. I hated the smoke, didn’t particularly like men, and had two small children to care for, in addition to a full-time job. Not only did I drink again, but I raged at my poor children and withdrew from those who could help me. It was back to loneliness and despair for all of us.
Today, although it has been many years since my last drink, it has not been so many years from my times of despair. One of my dear children was killed in a car accident, and the other went on to a life of his own. It is easy for me to feel lonely and to fall into thinking, You are different from me and cannot offer me what I need. I find it easy to forget that I am not the one in charge of my life. It is also easy to forget that I am much happier when I “let go and let God.”
Today, the difference between the last time I relied on alcohol and now is that I know how to use the tools I learned from practicing the Twelve Steps. When I don’t feel willing or able to “let go and let God,” I know of some things that will give me encouragement:
1. Listening with my heart. When I listen with my heart at meetings, I hear the human condition of suffering, attachment, love, and longing. I also hear the human solution of love and acceptance. I hear that we are only human and that when we identify our limitations, we also identify the need and possibility of the divine and the reliance upon God.
When I listen with my heart, I can hear the peace of mind that soothes the sorrowful. They speak of the love they feel when they rely on a power greater than themselves and how much enjoyment they have in their lives when they remember that they do not have the final word.
2. Using what I have learned (so far) from practicing Step Eleven. I pay attention to the rise and fall of my belly while I breathe, in and out–and, as a thought intrudes, I gently push it away, tell it “later,” and then I go back to that rise and fall of my belly. Remember how we delayed taking that first drink? Today, I can delay taking that thought (or that thought taking me).
3. Praying to my creator for help, over and over, almost chanting, until I feel the firm, loving arm of his compassion on my shoulder.
4. Writing–releasing thoughts from my mind onto paper or the computer and letting them swirl around outside of me.
5. Listing resentments and following the simple Big Book format of looking at and diffusing these resentments.
6. Listing fears, because I seem to always have fears, and asking myself (as the Big Book suggests), Why do I have these fears? Is it from relying on my own finite power? Can I see my way to trusting these fears to God and asking to be directed as to who I should be and not what I should do?
7. Working with someone else. I try to remember that if I am afraid, someone else is too. If I am lonely, then so is another alcoholic. I can help by reminding others of the tools available to us. I can reach out–on the phone or in meetings. I can break my icy wall of self-will by connecting with love and dispelling confusion and loneliness.
8. Having gratitude. I use that old gratitude list trick that we seize upon as newcomers and may forget as the fear of the first drink fades. By the end of each gratitude list, I feel a renewed reliance on my creator.
9. Finally, trying to remember that although I may be unique, I am not so different, after all. I am remembering this right now as my words reach you.