A NEW THOUGHT has been forming in my mind (now that the AA program has put it in working order). I believe that an element most important in building our sober lives is what is left out.
Several months ago, my husband and I enrolled in a beginners’ art course. We didn’t become great painters, but both of us now see things, such as leaves and blades of grass and shadings of color, that we weren’t aware of before. One day, the instructor showed us a Picasso drawing of the artist’s daughter. It pictured her in profile, and it consisted of only three lines. What was left out dramatized what was there. We learned also that in shading a tree, what is left out is as important as the pencil lines, for the blanks create sunlight on the leaves.
It seems to me that I achieve growth by leaving things out–when I don’t say the cross word, when I don’t answer sarcastically. If I can only delay one second, maybe two, I have time to ask myself, “Do I really want to say that?”
When I wrote down my list of people to make amends to, it was made up mostly of family. I wasn’t just thinking of the things I had done. I also remembered the many things I should have, would have, might have done had I not been drinking! The things I had left out ranged from the nice bouquets I could have given, and didn’t, all the way to downright neglect.
I used to tell all! To anybody who would listen! And things were going to be myway, too. “Self-will run riot”! Now it’s becoming easier to spot ego, and I work at getting the big Me out of the way.
I have discovered a new way to learn–by shutting my mouth and listening. Again, it’s not so much what I’m doing as what I’m not doing. I’m not talking. So I’m open; I’m teachable.
I used to like to direct my children’s affairs, offering advice when it wasn’t wanted and commanding activities and behavior. I’m more secure now. I’ve thrown out my director’s chair. Now, when I see one of my children heading on a certain course and I question the outcome, I keep my mouth shut and practice the Third Step. Whenever there’s a problem and I’m involved, I look to see what part of the problem I am causing (as one of my sponsors advised). I’m usually about eighty percent of the problem–well, maybe sixty percent, but the major part, you can bet on that. If I leave out the largest percent (me), there is hardly any problem at all!
I’m becoming so secure in AA, I’ve even discarded the cute, funny, phony me my civilian friends used to know. I don’t have to dance with a rose in my teeth; I can just dance. And I don’t have to be the only girl at the picnic who can swing Tarzan-style from a rope into the river. I can swim calmly, like the forty-year-old mother of four I am.
I don’t have to show off long legs in a miniskirt any more. I can just sit on them and be happy. And I can say no to a lot of things I’m not interested in. All the people-pleasing activities I used to engage in, I can cut out now. That gives me time to do the truly helpful, gut-warming little things, just because they need doing and I truly care. I have time to work my program.
I can sit quietly and really listen to people trying to communicate with me. My mind is no longer racing to find just the perfect quip to say or story to top theirs.
The eternal internal war I can do without, too. The fighting inside me is over, and am I glad!
And the most important item of all to leave out is the old, familiar foe, alcohol. Without it, life is just plain wonderful!