When a defect arises, she tries to release it like a balloon and let it float up to the sky. It feels so much lighter when it’s gone
For a long time I thought Step Six meant doing nothing, just waiting around and being ready. I wondered why it had to be a separate Step. Why not just go ahead to Step Seven and ask?
But one day, during my morning meditation, I was plagued by one of my defects and realized there is an action to take in Step Six. Being entirely ready means letting go. That’s my part. Right in the middle of a bad thought or attitude or action—if I recognize it—I can stop it right then, without completing it, without giving myself that satisfaction. And I might have to do this over and over. I might have to because certain defects are, in some strange way, comfortable, familiar, even pleasurable.
Maybe I’m the only one who nurses some of my defects—but I don’t think so, from what I’ve heard at my AA meetings. It seems like we all do it. Isn’t there a song with the lyric, “Hurts so good”? That’s what I’m talking about.
Somehow when it comes to me, though, my defect always seems so understandable, absolutely justified: No one cares about me. My feelings are hurt. Poor me. Why does this always happen to me? Why does everyone do this to me?
As I once heard at a recovery retreat, the way to deal with a defect is to break in and say “Stop it!” when I am obsessing on it. Just stop—and let it go. Easier said than done, of course.
I sometimes think of letting go as releasing a colorful balloon into the sky. Like a child, I don’t want to lose it; I have the string tied tightly around my finger. But if I want to be free, I have to let that cherished thing float up to the sky. It looks so light as it floats up, but it’s really a heavy harness on my neck, keeping me tethered to old ways that don’t work anymore. It actually feels so much better when it’s gone.
So here’s where I try to do my part. I say to myself, “Stop it. Let it go,” right in the middle of doing it if I can. Stop thinking that thought or talking about that person for the millionth time. Stop dragging myself down. Then I ask my Higher Power to help me.
I can’t say that I ever do this perfectly. But like the rest of us, I keep trying.