Posted on September 6, 2024

In the journey of recovery through Alcoholics Anonymous (AA), the phrase “I’ve got the monkey off my back, but the circus is still in town” perfectly captures the ongoing struggle many face. While the immediate burden of alcohol addiction may be lifted, the chaotic forces of ego, fear, and self-doubt often remain, requiring continuous attention and management.

Ego, in particular, is a relentless ringmaster, constantly trying to control the show. It manifests in our need for validation, our desire to be right, and our attempts to manage outcomes and people. Even after we’ve stopped drinking, these remnants of our old selves can create havoc, just like a circus that never quite leaves town.

A personal experience underscores this struggle. I recently gave one of my attorney clients critical insights into how large homebuilders finance housing projects with public bonds, which became key to resolving a large insurance claim. Instead of continuing to use me as the expert, the attorney sought out an ex-accountant from another homebuilder for further explanation. In the past, my ego would have driven me to assert that I deserved the credit. However, at a recent meeting on another case, I chose instead to compliment him on selecting the other person. He then glowingly shared how that choice helped resolve the claim. This moment of letting go of ego not only strengthened our relationship but also allowed me to focus on the bigger picture—helping my client succeed.

AA’s 12 Steps offer a roadmap for taming this circus. The program teaches us that the first step in dismantling ego is admitting our powerlessness—not just over alcohol but over life itself when driven by self-centeredness. Recognizing that we don’t have all the answers is the beginning of true humility, the antidote to ego.

In meetings, we learn that sharing our stories and listening to others helps to quiet the circus. Vulnerability, where ego is most uncomfortable, becomes our strength. By admitting our struggles and allowing others to do the same, we start to see that we are not alone in our journey. This collective experience helps us understand that the chaos we feel inside is not unique but part of the shared human condition.

As we work through the Steps, particularly those involving making amends and taking inventory, we begin to dismantle the tents of self-deception that ego has erected. These practices force us to look at ourselves honestly, not through the distorted lens of pride or shame, but with clarity. They help us understand that while the circus may never fully leave, we can learn to manage it more effectively. The concept of “Let Go and Let God” is crucial in keeping the circus in check. This idea of surrendering to a Higher Power is not about passivity but actively releasing our need for control. It’s about trusting that there is a greater plan at work, one that doesn’t require us to be the ringmaster of our own lives

It is a spiritual [axiom] that there is something wrong with us every time we are disturbed, no matter what the cause. If somebody hurts us and we are sore, we are in the wrong also. But are there no exceptions to this rule? What about “justifiable” anger? If somebody cheats on us, aren’t we entitled to be mad? Can’t we be properly angry with self-righteous folk? For us of A.A., these are dangerous exceptions. We have found that justified anger should be left to those better qualified to handle it. Twelve and Twelve, pg.  90

In my first years of sobriety struggling with the 12 steps, I was reading the Twelve and Twelve and ran across this statement.  I remember first thinking it must be a misprint, or at a minimum Bill W. going off the deep end in his second manuscript after the Big Book.  I struggled with it for a few weeks then let it lie for several years.  I was busy enough at the time trying to whittle down an embarrassingly long list of existing resentments.  Recently I experienced actions of others that challenged my serenity and made me revisit this “Axiom”.

After a couple of weeks of reflection on this challenge including sending an email to the offending parties and reaching out to a potential mutually friendly advocate, I needed to dig deeper to regain my internal peace.  Finding a lack of progress, I reached out and saw what others thought about this “Axiom”.  The views I found were diverse, driven by plenty of emotion, but accompanied by some good insights.

The first insight was that reactions to similar events can be very different in the same individual over time. They are not determined by external circumstances as much as the subtle nuances of one’s present spiritual condition.  This can prompt us to dig deeper into understanding the motivations behind our motivations.

Secondly, our initial reactions underline the tendency to deflect guilt by pointing fingers at others, but that is only a temporary refuge. The “Axiom” helps us to reframe our initial reaction to disturbances not as obstacles but as opportunities to reclaim personal serenity, independent of circumstances.

The third perspective is that as always in AA, challenges to “Finance and Romance” are triggers or signs of smoke that prompt greater investigation.

Next, we need to explore the idea in our struggles with others that we may be unwilling to hold ourselves to the standards we expect of them.

As we mature in the process, we can see disturbances as opportunities for self-healing.  It suggests the possibility that once we heal ourselves spiritually, our serenity can become less dependent on other’s behavior.

The process deepens as we connect with our Higher Power as a source of strength that can liberate ourselves from the shackles of eternal disturbances. He can create an inner peace that protects both us and others from further harm. 

In the process, the “Axiom” stands as the irrefutable truth framing disturbances not as roadblocks but as warnings for introspections and self-discovery. We can accept our normal emotional reactions, and not deny our feelings, but through acceptance allow them to dissipate naturally.  One person said if you diffuse 70% of the emotion, you can work on the other 30%.

For me, the real culprit this time was Expectations that got crushed.  Said differently, I didn’t get the appreciation I expected, in fact, the reverse. What I needed instead was an outlook of Expectancy.  That’s where I turn my will and life over to the care of God.  I’m responsible for the effort and he is responsible for all of the Outcome(s). I trust in his time that all will be worked out for me in his plan for my life.

Finally, the “Axiom” becomes more than a concept, it becomes a way of life in which we can transcend the limitations of the past and blend the internal and external realms into a cohesive personal reality. But this is only true if we consistently recognize that where there is Smoke, there is almost always a Fire.

“For every complex problem, there is an answer that is clear, simple, and wrong.” Lee Thayer

We are all familiar with the quote attributed to Mark Twain and the term “Old Ideas,” as read from Chapter Five of the Big Book at the beginning of every meeting.  Would you be surprised to find out that Mark Twain never made any statement that remotely resembles the above?  So even in examining a quotation that tells us we are relying on what many call mistaken certainties, we find out that an essential part of that quotation itself isn’t true-Mark Twain never said it.

The Big Book mentions the term “Old Ideas” only briefly.  One of those times we all know by heart is in Chapter 5, How it Works-“Some of us have tried to hold on to our old ideas, and the result was nil until we let go absolutely.”  Probably the most extensive concentration of “Old Ideas” is in the preceding Chapter 4, We Agnostics, showing us how rational a spiritual orientation and reliance upon a God of our understanding is.  Even those with a religious background discover what we need to do to gain access to a power greater than ourselves to deal with our alcoholism and return to our relationship with that God with a new dedication.

But this process of discovering and then letting go of our “Old Ideas” is never over as we achieve spiritual progress, not spiritual perfection, another new idea itself.   It is a one-day at a time process of uncovering, discovering, and discarding the false narratives that undergird our belief system.  Although I have returned to the religion of my youth, I often don’t see this same practice by the people who surround me at church.  It’s impressive when you think about the cohesiveness of AA, barely 80 years old,  in that it has held together without fragmenting into multiple sects.

Part of accomplishing this is our daily practice of peeling the onion and finding new variations of character defects that we then ask their God to remove.  One of my old ideas was to look outside myself whenever I was upset by something or somebody. The new idea that replaced it was from the 12 and 12.  It is a spiritual axiom that every time we are disturbed, no matter what the cause, there is something wrong with us. This caused me to look internally, taking follow-up inventories, consulting my sponsor and other wise owls in AA, and most of all, asking God to show me where I was wrong.

What are some of your old ideas and the new ideas that replaced them?

I heard a sermon recently by one of our Church’s young associates that seemed more like an AA meeting Pitch than what you would expect to come out of the mouth of the average preacher.  The gist of what she was saying was to reach someone; you needed to put yourself in close proximity and be genuinely vulnerable.

As we emerge from Covid-19  in the last couple of months and resume in-person meetings, the message couldn’t be timelier.  Thank God for Zoom meetings that have kept our sober society of AA together.  But like most, I have missed the face-to-face connection both before, after, and during meetings.  Hopefully, we will be able to avoid the insanity of another round of lockdowns that will chain us to our technology screens

But the more powerful message of her talk was to reawaken me to what a precious commodity we have in our history of sharing our “experience, strength and hope” but also our weakness and vulnerability.  During the sermon, she shared a very personal vulnerability. I said that I had never heard a preacher be so open about a defect before.  That contrasts with my experience in which sharing a vulnerable place at almost every formal and informal AA encounter is commonplace. So unremarkable that it is easy to forget what a unique blessing it is.

Leading with vulnerability and weakness can take several forms.  One is “knocking down” the thin veneer of the polished exterior we use to protect ourselves in our world.  Another is the simple statement, “I don’t know,  what do you think?.” The admission that one doesn’t know something is the most potent opening gambit that might encourage sharing by others.

But for all of this to work, we need real connections with people, and that takes another dimension-Proximity.  We need to decrease the distance between ourselves and others, which Zoom can resemble but never truly deliver on.  Being in the same room with others in close physical proximity and giving our time to listen to others is indispensable. 

And finally, it’s making ourselves open to people that we would not usually hang out with.  Last week I spent an hour with a person who works six days a week running a gas station by himself.  I wondered about what we would talk about.  When I enquired about his education, I was almost blown over by his Master’s degree in Biological Science.  He shared how as an outreach from his Church, he developed a unique ministry in getting the homeless off the street, one person at a time.  There is no programmatic approach here. He was just talking and listening and teasing out a unique solution to each soul’s grab bag of problems.

We are indeed a fortunate lot in AA.  The reasons that most of us feel that way are returning to health and sanity, resuming productive employment, regaining the respect and love of friends and family, and enjoying a genuine camaraderie in AA gatherings in ways at least I had never known. Although we weren’t looking for it, we gained something else as well-the beginning of a spiritual pathway that gradually takes over our lives.

But all of this doesn’t come without the threat of an instant return to our insufferable old lives if we pick up the first drink.  Like the famous story of Damocles where the courtier is jealous of King Dionysius’s seemingly perfect life.  Damocles trades places for a day and is treated to a lavish setting, a spectacular buffet, and servants to answer his every whim.  There was only one catch: the famous sword suspended by a single horsehair directly over his head.  The King puts Damocles under it to demonstrate his own existence’s fragility even though he is the King.   As the allegory goes, Damocles is so filled with fear at the prospect of being skewered by the sword he begs to be removed and restored to his previous position as a lowly courtier.

This is the position we are in as members of AA. “It is easy to let up on the spiritual program of action and rest on our laurels. We are headed for trouble if we do, for alcohol is a subtle foe. What we have is a Daily Reprieve contingent on the maintenance of our spiritual condition” P 70. Big Book. Unlike the Damocles story, it’s the Daily Reprieve instead of the single horsehair keeping us from inevitable disaster.  Having our resentments, self-pity, and guilt removed through the current identification of character defects and making amends, the connection to the Higher Power we rely upon is there for us when we need it.  Our fears and anxieties subside, and we can even know the “Peace that passes all understanding” of Biblical fame.

Although we would never choose a predicament that puts our sobriety at such grave risk, I contend that we are lucky to be in it.  When we finally grasp our dilemma as lack of power over alcohol, we must have our Daily Reprieve and, in doing so naturally grow along spiritual lines which the Big Book calls spiritual progress, not spiritual perfection.

Early in my sobriety, I ran across the book titled above.  The Beechers, a husband and wife team of academic psychologists trained by Adler, a close associate of Jung, are the authors. Carl Jung was one of the thought leaders given significant credit for his understanding of Alcoholics by Bill Wilson.  The Twelve and Twelve dives into this subject in a few places, “Furthermore, how shall we come to terms with seeming failure or success? Can we now accept and adjust to either without despair or pride? Can we accept poverty, sickness, and bereavement with courage and serenity? Can we steadfastly content ourselves with the humbler, yet sometimes more durable, satisfactions when the brighter, more glittering achievements are denied us? (Page 92, 12×12).

As the title of this book and AA references suggested, have we severely limited our perspective by not living in the duality which Rudyard Kipling captured so eloquently -“If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;  If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster and treat those two impostors just the same?” We all live in a world that thinks “Success and Failure” IS the game we are all playing, or at least supposed to be playing. 

So is there something beyond these two goalposts?  Are we depriving ourselves of something much better by accepting these limited concepts to rule our lives?  The AA literature is pretty explicit, “In the years since, however, most of us have come to agree with those doctors. We have had a much keener look at ourselves and those about us. We have seen that we were prodded by unreasonable fears or anxieties into making a life business of winning fame, money, and what we thought was leadership. So false pride became the reverse side of that ruinous coin marked ‘Fear.’ We simply had to be number one people to cover up our deep-lying inferiorities. In fitful successes, we boasted of greater feats to be done; in defeat, we were bitter. If we didn’t have much of any worldly success, we became depressed and cowed” (Page 112, 12×12).

In my own life, the insatiable need for taking credit is where this dilemma most manifests itself. As I am writing this piece, an example of the above just raised its ugly head.  I have a central role in a major legal case as an expert witness. Still, I was significantly dependent on the well-developed research of an academic who is undoubtedly the World’s expert on the subject.  Partly as the result of trying to requisition his analysis into the case, my client has rediscovered this person, and it now looks that my role will be subordinate as a result.  My first reaction was that in helping the other guy, my importance got reduced.  The reality is that the case is much stronger with both of us collaborating.  I picked up the phone, welcoming his involvement even though it turns my role into more of a bit player.  The two dozen families whose houses were destroyed in a recent wildfire are much better served by us working in tandem rather than me trying to hog all the limelight.

So is it often the case that “less is more”?  By that, if we are genuinely looking for the result that God may want, is getting less for ourselves often the way God’s will is furthered?  All I can say is that after going through a few hours feeling a sense of loss, I am now experiencing the peacefulness that comes from a sense of teamwork where the two of us are much more, even if I don’t get the starring role.