Mel B

AFTER WE HAVE MANAGED to establish a time gap between the present and our drinking past it is usually comparatively easy to talk about ourselves as we were then. Our mistakes and bad thinking habits can all be laid at John Barleycorn’s door and most of us can discuss them with little embarrassment at all. It can be almost as much fun as talking about somebody else.

But while it is remarkably easy to be critical of our former selves it may be extremely hard to talk about our mistakes and bad habits of today. It is much more comfortable, temporarily at least, to hide behind the notion that most of our major faults vanished with the bottle. We can prove this by pointing to the improvement in the way we behave.

For those who can be happy with this idea perhaps it’s good. But I am one of those who has found that every troublesome character defect I ever had when drinking is still very much alive today though I’ve not had a drink in a long time,  I am as powerless over my emotional problems as I ever was over alcohol.

For example, I can look back at my pre-AA thinking and see a great deal of vengeful scheming and powerful resentments. When people rejected or humiliated me I plotted revenge and nourished resentments that festered for years. Often, I indulged in morbid fantasies in which I triumphed over those I hated. If my enemies were people whose achievements, abilities, and possessions I en-vied, I contrived imaginary situations in which I somehow surpassed them. If bad luck came their way I was outwardly sympathetic but secretly I gloated.

Ungovernable resentments, swollen pride, and persistent fears were the basic ingredients in this monstrous accumulation of poisoned thinking. These things did as much damage as drinking. They also added up to a lot of misery.

With sobriety I began to work on these defects but I found that they don’t die easily. Evidently these unfortunate traits have deep roots for they seem to defy destruction despite my long awareness of their existence and the damage they do. I continued to experience troubles with resentment and other hostile emotions even years after AA taught me the danger and folly of it.

Lacking enough insight or the spiritual tools to eliminate these character defects forever I’m forced to go on living with a self that is sometimes a heel. Someday he may change. That monstrous ego will shrink a bit and let a little healing sunlight shine through on a character that is corroded with ambition, self-centeredness, and pride.

Meantime I have a plan of attack that is slowly succeeding. Character defects, like germs, cannot stand too much exposure. Mr. Heel’s power can be neutralized if I keep him out in the open, discussing him at every possible opportunity. When he tries to focus attention on the errors of seven years ago I turn the spotlight right back on the present for I know that this is my problem. And Mr. Heel’s days, I hope, are numbered.

GV: How did you come to Alcoholics Anonymous?

Mel: At sixteen years of age, I was on the threshold of alcoholism. In 1946, I saw a March of Time documentary film about AA. I had read about AA even before that. The Fellowship was still new and several magazines wrote positive articles about it.

I went to my first AA meeting in Santa Paula, California, in October 1948, about a month after my twenty-third birthday. It was a small meeting, with only about ten people. I remember that a guy came in drunk. In thousands of meetings since then, I’ve hardly ever seen anyone come in drunk. Drinking, maybe, but not staggering into the meeting. Everyone handled this man very gently, and one member took him home. The way they helped him made quite an impression on me.

It took me another year and a half to get sober. Finally, in 1950, I went into the Nebraska state hospital in Norfolk, my hometown. Once again, I joined AA. I’ve stayed sober ever since.

GV: What compelled you to join AA at age twenty-four? Back then it was considered to be a young age to join.

Mel: I was having blackouts and I was out of control. I couldn’t work and had a lot of trouble getting along with people. I went to jail several times. I was in bad shape mentally and emotionally. Between drunks, I was tense, withdrawn, sensitive, and nervous.

But when I got sober, I could see that using AA principles helped me solve some of my problems and I gained some confidence. I read the Grapevine, and I read the Big Book many times.  When Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions came out, I read that, and then I read AA Comes of Age. I admired Bill right from the beginning.

GV: What kept you coming back when many of your peers didn’t?

Mel: I learned from other people’s mistakes. For example, when I was about three years sober, I met a guy with eight years of sobriety. In 1953, eight years was a lot of time. He said that he wasn’t going to meetings anymore. If you hadn’t learned enough in eight years to stay sober without meetings, he said, then you hadn’t listened. The man was drunk three months later.

GV: When you first joined AA, did you have a relationship with a Higher Power?

Mel: I was an agnostic or an atheist or something. I was bitter about religion. I had been involved in it as a teenager, and it wasn’t a good experience. I see now that it was my poor attitude.

GV: You have been a frequent contributor to the Grapevine over the years.

Mel: I’ve always wanted to write. When I first came to AA and got sober, I told myself that being a professional writer was just a fantasy. People in my family didn’t do things like that, I said. My dad thought I should be a mechanic, but I’m a terrible mechanic. I should never get near a set of tools.

I got a job doing production control work in Jackson, Michigan. The company had a magazine, and I started writing articles for it. My first article was published in June 1955, and the Grapevine published one in September of the same year. Seeing your work in print is a big thing. You see it on the typewriter, but when it actually gets into print, that does something to you.

The next year, 1956, the company magazine needed an editor and they gave me the job. I didn’t have a college degree or real writing experience, but the company president liked my work. Later, I became their public relations manager and stayed on with them until I retired. AA made that possible.

GV: You were in AA when Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions was published. Do you remember what kind of reaction it got?

Mel: I don’t remember any unfavorable reaction. Although later, in the early 1980s, I interviewed a member who was critical of Bill and didn’t like the “Twelve and Twelve.” Later, I discovered that Bill was depressed when he wrote it. At first, I resented him for giving the rest of us advice while he was in this big slump. Now, I see that the “Twelve and Twelve” has a lot of wisdom. Bill talked about dealing with real human problems as you go along in sobriety.

GV: How did people feel about Dr. Bob?

Mel: I met people who knew Dr. Bob, and none of them spoke of disliking him. It was usually Bill who was the lightning rod.

GV: Of the two men, Bill was more outgoing?

Mel: Yes, and he also thought of the future from the beginning. Yev G., an early member of AA, said that when they were just a rinky-dink outfit with a handful of people, Bill was already talking about AA as a worldwide Fellowship. When The Saturday Evening Post said they wanted to do a story, Bill saw it as a great opportunity for AA. There’s a picture with the story showing an early meeting, and Bill’s right in the center of it. They aren’t mentioned by name but the Post demanded a photograph of a meeting. No photograph, no article, they said, so Bill made an exception and allowed it. The Post was the leading family magazine then and went into almost every home. He knew it would be a big breakthrough, and it was.

GV: Do you think attitudes about the co-founders have changed?

Mel: We now have more devotion to them. In Akron, there’s Dr. Bob’s house with a monument on the lawn. Stepping Stones is a shrine. Bill’s birthplace in East Dorset has become a shrine. People go to his grave and leave mementos. I have a picture I took in 1958, and there were about three dozen people at Dr. Bob’s grave for a Founder’s Day memorial program. Now on every Founder’s Day, thousands of people visit.

GV: What changes have you seen in Alcoholics Anonymous?

Mel: There have been a lot of changes in society over the last fifty years. It’s hard to imagine how many until you sit down and start to think about it. And, of course, some of those changes have come to AA. For instance, in 1950 we didn’t have gay meetings or anything like that. So, that’s one big change. But there is still the basic program and a strong belief in a Higher Power.

GV: What are your thoughts about women’s and men’s meetings?

Mel: I think they are necessary because some members need them. My dentist goes to an Al-Anon men’s meeting and gets something big out of that meeting. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with them.

GV: Are there any personal moments in your recovery that stand out?

Mel: Those times when I’ve learned something new. For example, early in my sobriety I postponed taking the Fifth Step for a long time. Then I read an AA Grapevine story, “The Big Hump,” in the January 1955 issue. It called taking that Step “a big hump” to get over. Today, I still tell people at AA meetings about how that article helped me. Until I read that article, I had held back on taking the Fifth Step because of fear.

GV: Do you have any concerns, as some members do, about the future of AA?

Mel: Although the membership seems to have leveled off at two million or whatever it is, we may have reached a point where we shouldn’t expect much more growth. We know that a lot of people won’t respond to AA, although we wish they would.

On the other hand, the AA principles have influenced far more people than we realize. Today, you can watch a TV show and somebody will parody AA. A guy will say, “Hello, my name is Joe, and I’m a so-and-so,” like it’s an AA meeting. That shows how much AA has become identifiable. But one thing that assures our future, I think, is the literature, and how much of it has been produced. Anyone who wants to know about AA shouldn’t have any trouble finding information.

GV: Today, AAs have meetings online and we hear stories of Twelfth Step calls via e-mail. Does technology have a role in helping us carry the message? What are your thoughts on the pros and cons of technology?

Mel: I have no quarrel with technology. There was a time when people didn’t have telephones; today, we take it for granted. When I was growing up, we didn’t get a telephone until 1940. Today, the Internet is a better way of communicating. If you ask me to write an article about a subject, first I go online and find out what information is available.

GV: How do you think the information explosion has affected the tradition of anonymity?

Mel: Some prominent people have broken their anonymity, or at least come out as alcoholic, and I think it’s helped. In the 1950s, an actress named Lillian Roth wrote a book called I’ll Cry Tomorrow and broke her anonymity. They also made a movie based on the book, and both were successful. An AA member I knew said he thought that Lillian Roth helped women accept their alcoholism. Some good came out of it, he said, although it violated an AA Tradition. When Betty Ford came out, it probably did recovery a lot of good. She never said she was an AA member, but she certainly made it more respectable to be in recovery.

GV: What would you say to today’s young people coming into AA?

Mel: We have a lot of good young people coming in. A lot of drug stuff is cropping up. The old-timers are fading away and many people coming in today have had some experience with drugs. We should face the fact that many people in AA were cross-addicted before they came in.

It is important to be careful and not judge everybody by our own feelings and experiences. I think Bill was always open to change. When young people went to see him, he thought they were terrific. Bill provided a good example of open-mindedness to the people who appealed to him.

GV: Do you have any closing remarks about the benefits of the Twelve Steps and the AA Fellowship?

Mel: I’m eighty-one years old and I still go to three or four meetings a week. I couldn’t have the life I’ve had without AA and sobriety.

JUST the other day, a famous clergyman who also runs a mental health clinic at his church remarked that at least sixty per cent of the persons seeking his help suffer from mental depression. I am not surprised, for many of my acquaintances (AAs and non-AAs included) suffer from prolonged attacks of despondency and depression. Some of my AA friends frequently arrive at meetings in a state of silent rage, and often leave without showing much improvement.

Mental depression is a serious problem and often seems to defy understanding. But it can be overcome; it is a completely unnecessary evil that has no real place in a happy, normal way of life. It is as wrong to accept depression as being unavoidable as it would be to say that there is no way out of a drinking problem. Depression problems can be conquered in the same way drinking is vanquished–through a persistent and determined application of AA principles.

At this point I can sense the tortured skepticism of the individual who has tried and tried to eliminate depression, only to have the problem return again like a bad penny. I speak from experience, however, for mental depression has been one of my most besetting problems and it plagued me throughout nine successive years of sobriety in AA! In 1959, it began to lift, and in the past few years it has been practically nonexistent. Perhaps in this article I can share with others some of the thoughts I’ve developed on the subject out of my own experience.

One belief I have about depression and all other states of mind is that they obey a law of “cause and effect.” Early in my AA experience, a speaker explained this law at an AA meeting in connection with his own drinking and thinking problems: “For every cause there is an effect and for every effect there is a cause.” For the alcoholic, this means that his drinking grows out of certain causes within himself; he cannot escape responsibility for his condition by attributing it to a quirk of fate or a whim of Providence.

I believe acceptance of “cause and effect” helped me to come to terms with drinking. It seemed a cruel law, but by working with it I found complete liberation from drinking.

Then periodic attacks of depression began, and at this point “cause and effect” seemed to mock me. What were the real causes of these effects that seemed almost as soul-destroying as drinking had been? Why weren’t my attempts to follow AA principles doing something about these frightful periods of self-loathing and despair? Was this a form of penance which God had laid upon me as punishment for all my years of debauchery? Was the AA program too narrow and too limited to embrace this condition as well as drinking? Had I been saved from one evil only to perish in another?

On countless occasions I sank into an almost suicidal frame of mind, and at times the pain was all but unendurable. Perhaps the greatest pain of all came from the hidden fear that there was no way out of this problem.

I wish I could say that my AA friends gave me a great deal of help and understanding during this ordeal, but the truth is that only a few did. Advice such as “cheer up” or “things will get better tomorrow” is of little benefit; I already knew that I would probably “cheer up” and “get better tomorrow,” but what distressed me was the inability to get better and stay that way.

An individual also finds little assistance from those members who tend to blanket every problem under a generality such as, “You must not be following the program in its entirety or you wouldn’t have this problem.” Such a remark still makes me shudder. It may be true, but it leaves so much unsaid, and it doesn’t help the individual find the answers he seeks so desperately.

But there are some in AA who have suffered deeply from this problem and understand it from personal experience. The dictum “seek and ye shall find” seems to apply here. Don’t try to hide your problem, and from time to time you’ll meet a person who can help you with it. Nor is it anything to feel guilty about, nobody has ever proved that the depressed person is failing to “follow the AA program in its entirety.” Like most of us, he is probably doing the best with the AA program that he is able to do at the moment, but his illness may be pretty deep-seated. He may be climbing out of a deeper pit than those pits his fellows have occupied.

It is hardly surprising that alcoholics develop problems with depression after cessation of drinking. A dictionary definition of the depressed state is “dejected, dispirited, a lowering of the spirits, being weighed down.” The depressed person is overloaded, carrying heavy burdens which bear down upon him. One way out is through drinking, but this dubious escape route leads only to the inferno of alcoholism. Once in AA, the recovering alcoholic must somehow survive bouts of depression without returning to the bottle. But he should not be alarmed when depression comes, for this malady was probably with him to a certain extent before he ever became a problem drinker. His condition is similar to that of the individual who has been indulging himself in a potent pain-killer in order to mask the agony of an abscessed tooth. If he stops using the pain-killer, his toothache is back, sharper than ever.

The real solution is to remove the causes of pain, not merely to mask them. This is easy to do in the case of an aching tooth; it is much more difficult with the deep pain of depression.

A possible way of accomplishing this is to apply the AA principles directly to the problem of depression as well as to alcoholism. The need for this seeming duplication of effort is easy to understand after such a program has been started. We have to work on the specific problems that are troubling us, and if we seem to have additional problems after we have learned how to remain sober, then we should make these problems our specific targets. It is only in this way that we can find the mature, happy sobriety that so many AAs seek.

The AA Twelve Step program of recovery is sometimes reduced to four phases, for convenient discussion at meetings. These phases are: Admission, Inventory. Spiritual Realization, and Service (helping others). How can these phases be applied to mental depression?

The Admission phase is first, of course, just as it is with drinking. And it may come as a surprise that this may be a very difficult step for a person to take even after he has successfully passed the hurdle of being able to admit that he is powerless over alcohol. Persistent pride has a way of plaguing us in sobriety no less than it did in drinking, and sometimes it is extremely difficult for an AA member of long standing to admit that depression is bothering him. After all, we sometimes make such a ritual of proclaiming our serenity that this may lead a person to believe that if he is depressed there must be something that he’s doing wrong. But even that thought is depressing to one who has been trying hard, so it is tempting at this point to say nothing about the problem and to hope that it will go away in time.

It’s hardly likely to go away, however, unless some definite action is taken; remember, we are dealing with cause and effect. So it is important to admit the problem to ourselves and to at least one understanding and sympathetic person. (This understanding person may well be a psychiatrist, if the individual can find one whom he trusts and respects. Seeking psychiatric help is not an indictment of an individual’s working of the AA program; if anything, professional counseling may be just what some of us need for complete recovery.)

In any case, it’s a great relief simply to tell somebody about a matter that has been secretly troubling us. This usually has the effect of making the problem less frightening right away, just as alcohol loses its power to terrorize us when we take the big step of admitting that we are alcoholics.

The next phase is to take a personal inventory, with an eye towards searching out the defects that make us depressed. Resentment, self-pity, and jealousy are likely to be there, along with pride, excessive ambition and sex problems.

Do these character defects fuel the fires of depression? Very likely, for they seem to be present in one form or another in most depression. Yet it’s possible to work unsuccessfully for years trying to eliminate such defects, and some people seem to have many of these shortcomings without also being depressed.

It is also possible, strange as it may seem, that a person can plunge himself into considerable depression and self-loathing over his failure to measure up to certain high moral standards. He may be condemning himself, in sobriety, for moral lapses that hardly rated a moment’s notice during his drinking escapades. If so, he has lost perspective, for no AA member has been assigned the task of achieving sainthood in order to enjoy a modicum of happiness.

If we are wearing the hair shirt of self-condemnation because of our human imperfections, it is well to review this statement in the book Alcoholics Anonymous: “We are not saints. The point is, that we are willing to grow along spiritual lines. The principles we have set down are guides to progress. We claim spiritual progress rather than spiritual perfection.”

This brings us to AA’s third phase: Spiritual Realization. Here we have the ultimate answer to depression as well as all human problems. If we can receive and maintain a spiritual awakening, our mental depression must lift. Indeed, depression itself is defined as a state of being “dispirited.” Therefore, to have a true spiritual awakening is to acquire the riches of the spirit that we sought vainly in the bottle.

Why is it difficult to receive such an awakening? Theologians constantly tell us that God is seeking man even more than man seeks God; if this be the case, why don’t most of us live in perpetual joy once we have concluded that God exists and is interested in our welfare?

One reason for our slow progress in developing spiritual realization may be a chronic sense of guilt; we may suppose that our personal shortcomings and sins bar us from God’s grace. But if this were so, no man could approach God, for we are told that all have sinned and come short of His glory. Therefore, a knowledge of personal faults is all the more reason why one should seek spiritual growth as speedily as possible.

Another barrier to spiritual progress may be the individual’s fear of knowing God’s will. One man voiced the fear that God might command him to leave his wife and children and go to Africa as a missionary. Another was afraid he would be made to resign his position and accept a menial job elsewhere. Many others have thought that doing God’s will means being subjected to ridicule, drudgery and poverty.

All this is silly, and even a bit tragic. If we believe that God exists, that He created the heavens and the earth, and is Absolute Good at every point, then we have nothing at all to fear in accepting His will completely in everything. God comes into our lives only for good, and if His guidance eventually leads us into actions that appear difficult or impossible now, we will be prepared and strengthened for these actions when it is time for them.

We may also suffer dejection because we believe God is “testing” us or “punishing” us. But God has no need to “test” us, for He knows our capabilities instantly. As for punishment, the worst kind is that which we administer to ourselves in our own minds. As quickly as possible, we must move into a belief that we can receive God’s love, protection and care, with complete abandon. Then we will be truly rich in spirit–and certainly no longer depressed.

The fourth phase of AA is to serve others, and it is also the way of our own recovery. We are fortunate that the pioneer AAs discovered the power of helping others, without it AA could not have survived, and few of us would have recovered.

It has been our experience that an individual reduces the tyranny of self-centeredness in his own life when he helps others and becomes interested in their welfare. There is an old axiom that feeling follows action. Applied to AA activity, this means that a person who acts by becoming involved in helping others will soon come to feel interested in those he is assisting. There is nothing wrong in helping others in order to help oneself; AA’s entire operating premise has always been that we give because we have a need to give, not because we are especially good or highly dedicated.

In my own experience of exploring the cause and effect of depression, I believe that learning to apply spiritual principles to pride, ambition and fear has turned the tide. At the same time, however, I had to apply the brakes to self-condemnation, for there is no advantage in looking at pride and other defects and swinging from there to a condition of self-belittlement. Self-criticism is a liability if it is excessive; we must remove the defects from our lives without running the knife of self-probing any deeper than it needs to go.

How do you know if you’re winning the battle against depression? The chief symptoms in my case were noticeable changes in attitude and feeling. Conditions that often caused me despair no longer had the power to hurt, and I became aware of a power to shut off a depressed state in its early stages. This improvement is a day-at-a-time activity, and we overcome depression for all time by conquering it today. We cannot wait for somebody or something in the future to remove our depression, for if we are unable to find happiness here and now, it is hardly likely we can find it anywhere.

There is no virtue in depression, nobody is helped by it, and it is destructive, not creative. It is a completely unnecessary evil that should not be allowed to coexist with the wonderful things we have in Alcoholics Anonymous. It can be beaten.

Visit Mel: walkindryplaces.com

I’ve sometimes heard that alcoholics and other addicts are usually looking for love in the wrong places.  Dr. Bob S, AA’s beloved co-founder, apparently thought we could at least find paths to love in a small book, The Great-est Thing in the World.  According to AA’s authorized biography of Dr. Bob, he advised another member to get it for a woman who was going into D.T.’s.  “When she comes out of it and she decides she wants to be a different woman, get her (this book),” he said.  “Tell her to read it through every day for 30 days, and she’ll be a different woman.”

That’s quite a promise for one book, especially one that can be read in less than thirty minutes.  But The Greatest Thing in the World is no ordinary book.  Written in 1887 by a Scottish educator named Henry Drummond, it presents a simple and yet profound discussion of Love. Drummond was a distinguished  au-thor of many books.  But he is known today only for his simple treatise on Love.

Why did Dr. Bob consider it so useful for alcoholics in recovery?  Probably because its power lies in presenting simple rules which aid in overcoming resentment and selfishness while offering nine simple things a person can do to cultivate Love in his/her life.

The book is based on one great passage in the Bible: I Corinthians 13 which begins by saying,  “Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not Love, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal…”  It goes on to list nine ingredients of Love which Drummond translated as Patience, Kindness, Generosity, Humility, Courtesy, Unselfishness, Good Temper, Guilelessness, and Sincerity.

Most of these ingredients often crop up in AA talks and discussions.  Humility was always a big topic for Bill W., and he also emphasized the importance of Unselfishness.  And Kindness.  Both he and Dr. Bob were very kind in their dealings with others and I’m confident that they were extremely Courteous and Generous.  They also sought improvement in areas where they felt deficient.  Bill W., for example, was quick to make amends when he felt that his temper had led him astray, though he was not really bad-tempered.  Dr. Bob also had a warm disposition.  A woman in Toledo remembered him fondly from her student nursing days at Akron’s St. Thomas Hospital. She said he only became disgruntled when he heard hospital staff members belittling the alcoholics in his care.

The good news about the nine ingredients is that we can easily understand them and choose to practice them whenever we are ready.  Not a great deal of sacrifice or effort is required.  For the most part, we just try to think and act like decent human beings concerned for the wellbeing of our fellows.  We can become patient with ourselves and with the person who slips repeatedly.  We can be kind even towards people who are nasty towards us.  We can be generous with our time and resources.  We should be humble about any success, giving God and our sponsors the credit.  We can be courteous to everybody and especially to family members who get on our nerves.  We should also challenge the demon of selfishness every day.  We should watch our disposition like a  hawk, mindful of the damage a single outburst of bad temper can cause.  We can also avoid guile like the plague, never deceiving or misleading others for our own advantage.  And finally, we can be sincere in everything we do and very grateful to be rid of the false beliefs of our drinking past.  Do all these things and we are on the great Highway to Love, which comes from God.

There’s more good news:  Drummond’s marvelous book is still in print and available from several publishers.  Almost any book store has it or can obtain it in a few days.  The full text of I Corinthians 13 is also available in any Bible.  It is one of the most beautiful passages in the Bible and its closing statement should be familiar to all of us:  “Now abideth Faith, Hope, and Love, but the greatest of these is Love.”

When looking for Love, this is the right place to start finding it….

It’s almost a cliché. Time and time again, you’ll hear AA members talk about what’s happened to them in the way of financial recovery, then quickly add, “But material things don’t count. Money doesn’t buy happiness. You don’t have to drive a Cadillac to feel good.”

Whatever its form, the statement makes me uneasy. It is true that excessive materialism is one of the curses of our age, and that many of us have come to grief while in pursuit of the god of business success. Others have been disillusioned when they found success and it turned to ashes in their grasp. And there’s no doubt that material things are limited in their power to give us what we really need in life. Materialism should be modified. But dare we push this modification to the point of saying that material things don’t count at all?

Sometimes, there’s almost a trace of hypocrisy in these announcements. An AA member speaks at our group and tells with great joy of his emancipation from the need to own a Cadillac. Walking with him to the parking lot, I am then astonished to see him slide behind the wheel of his new Caddy for the trip home. If Cadillacs don’t, count, why is he driving one? Why didn’t he buy a compact and give the difference to charity?

Or take the occasional member who lectures the destitute down-and-outer. Outside, the temperatures are falling, and the newcomer wonders where he will sleep that night. He has stumbled confused into AA, partly for hope and partly to bum the price of a night’s lodging. Before he knows it, somebody is telling him not to be preoccupied with “material things,” because his first need is to get sober!

My point is not just to express disapproval of such thoughtlessness–many of us have been guilty of it. Rather, I think we should aim for a realistic view of material things, so that we don’t make fools of ourselves by dismissing them out of hand, and at the same time don’t make slaves of ourselves by letting materialism become our be-all and end-all.

It is obvious, too, that few people really believe anybody who speaks out against materialism or money. The world has few genuine Thoreaus or Gandhis, and most of us pursue money to a certain degree. We also live in a type of world that is virtually uninhabitable without money. Many of us could not even get to work without an automobile, and we have countless other fixed obligations to meet: shelter, clothing, heat, lights, food, taxes, education, medical expenses. A person who tried to get by without these necessities in our present society wouldn’t be admired; he would be thought irresponsible.

The problem with materialism grows out of the false views we have towards money; money itself is not the problem. These false views involve a tendency to ascribe too much power to money, to see it as an answer to every human problem and need. Perhaps we are unconsciously inclined to assume that, since a certain amount of money is very good, increasing amounts will bring proportionate increases of good. But it does not work this way. The power of money is limited; it is completely ineffective in satisfying some needs, though it may be indispensable in satisfying certain others.

What will money do? In general, it will purchase comfort, convenience, and means of pleasure–material things. If you have money, you can live in a comfortable home, have appliances, automobiles, and services for your convenience, and seek pleasure through vacation trips and frequent entertainment.

But if a person is basically unhappy, he cannot be made happy by obtaining comfort and convenience. It is not at all uncommon to find some of the unhappiest people in fine suburban homes. This does not prove that fine suburban homes are bad for happiness. It only shows that the source of happiness is never in “things.”

But it would be silly to leap from this observation to the belief that one can be happy though destitute. Unhappiness and actual destitution seem to go hand in hand. The destitute person is so deprived of the basic necessities of ordinary living that he becomes preoccupied with fear and need; hence, he is unhappy. A friend who has had several financial setbacks in his life tells me that he fears destitution, but not poverty. He sees poverty only as a low standard of living. As a rule, poor people still have a roof, three meals, and (in the U.S.) often a car of some kind. But destitute people have nothing. One could be poor and happy; one could rarely be destitute and happy.

I have found a personal answer by seeing material things as spiritual ideas. God made the physical world, as well as the spiritual and mental. It is our job to use material things properly, seeing them just as things to use and not as objects for either worship or condemnation. It is also our job to use spiritual ideas and principles properly, recognizing that, while they are superior to material things, they do not replace the material.

Perhaps we could get the most balanced view of this if we looked upon both money and spiritual principles as “tools” for good living. A competent artisan knows that he must have an assortment of tools in his kit to perform any job well, and he uses each tool for a specific purpose. He does not condemn the saw because it is not a good hammer, and he does not throw away his plane because it will not drill holes. He uses each tool for its intended purpose and completes the job.

As recovered alcoholics, we naturally want to live in reasonable comfort with all the happiness and personal fulfillment we can find. It is up to us to enhance this comfortable life with a healthy spiritual outlook–an outlook characterized by feelings of gratitude, goodwill, optimism, and unselfishness. Such an outlook includes a practical appreciation of the value in material things. We know, then, that material things do matter–but not to the exclusion of other values in life.

M. D. B.

IS there an alcoholic alive who hasn’t wished that he could retrace his steps in life, living through certain experiences again but acting more wisely this time? Don’t some AA members often remark, rather wistfully, how much better life would have been if sobriety had come to them sooner? Who hasn’t thought, also, how nice it must be for those who grow up already possessing most of the AA principles but without first enduring the alcoholic’s pain and remorse?

This desire to live life over on a better basis isn’t uncommon, but it can easily become a liability. Reviewing the ex-periences of the past is useful only if we can somehow profit from it. It should largely be for the purpose of avoiding similar mistakes in the future. Otherwise the past is best forgotten, for time doesn’t move back for any man.

In one sense, however, we are given the chance to relive our old situations in a much wiser manner. There is a saying to the effect that the more things change, the more they stay the same. This is true of our lives. The problems we meet to-day are most likely basically similar to problems we faced years ago in other forms. Why did we fail then? What have we learned since that will keep us from repeating our mistakes?

One of our biggest handicaps was in not having techniques and principles for living that enabled us to deal with situations as they arose. It was like trying to work mathematics problems without knowing the principles; when we hit upon correct solutions it was only by chance, and all too frequently we couldn’t repeat any successes. Life became one blunder after another, social relationships fell apart, financial and health difficulties arose, and we lived in the pressure cooker of anxiety, uncertainty, fear and remorse.

For many alcoholics, the only surprising thing about their past lives is that matters sometimes turned out as well as they did. Even then–though unsought and unacknowledged–a Higher Power may have been looking out for us.

We should remember, though, that we actually did as well as we could at the time. The regrettable personal relationship, the lost job, the squandered inheritance, the wasted opportunity–all these failures were hardly avoidable under the circumstances. Alcoholism is an illness; afflicted with other illnesses of similar severity we would have failed just as dismally. The same is true of those failures which one meets after joining AA–the personal shortcomings that fed alcoholism are still around and can still bring trouble.

But at least the growth and progression is now in an upward direction. The AA program gives us techniques and principles for the mastery of most of life’s problems. Getting along with troublesome people becomes easier, finances and health usually improve, and opportunities can now be used to advantage. It is, in fact, the striking difference be-tween the old life and the new way that sometimes brings this reflection that if today’s knowledge could have been applied to yesterday’s problems, things would have been so much better.

But that’s true of other things in life. The affluent businessman who once scraped and borrowed to get through college would have been more comfortable if some of today’s income could have been available to him in the lean old days. The general who bungled in World War I could have won easily if, by a miracle, somebody could have given him a few of World War II’s weapons. The artist who now knows the tricks of his trade would have fared better if he’d had his present skills twenty years ago. But these things can’t be applied retroactively; neither can AA’s ideas for good living.

What is possible is to keep up-to-date on our ability to meet life. Those old problems that once overwhelmed us are still visiting us, though in higher and subtler forms. Our attention should be focused on the problems of the present, and we already have most of the tools for dealing with them in the Twelve Steps.

We also should remind ourselves that mentally refighting the battles of the past may be a convenient way of side stepping today’s challenges. Most of us have enough problems right now to engage our full attention. If we’re digging up past troubles to fret over, it may be at the expense of current matters that need work.

The AA program, lived well today, can give us happiness, development of our own powers, and guidance in im-proving the general conditions of our lives. The case histories of AA members who have found joy and fulfillment through the AA program are so numerous as to border on the fantastic. Yet even those who have traveled far are still only on the threshold of much greater things that can follow with a deeper spiritual life and more vision.

Yesterday carries some important lessons for us, and the AA program wisely provides for clearing up past wrongs. But the past is best mended by living so fully today that its errors have no place in our lives.

We hear at meetings that gratitude will help eliminate self-pity and resentment, as well as some of the other demons that seem to afflict alcoholics even in sobriety. But how does it work in practice? Is there a quick, easy way to put this principle into operation?

I think I stumbled onto the one-minute solution for self-pity back in the winter of 1988. Our daughter, Lynne, was in her first semester at Kent State University, and I had driven from Toledo, Ohio, to bring her home for the Christmas holidays. But first I had gone to Cleveland for a brief business call and began encountering considerable snow as I headed south toward Kent, Ohio.

When I arrived on the campus, I discovered that I had to park about seventy-five yards from Lynne’s dormitory. The snow was getting worse, and I had not brought overshoes. I also discovered that Lynne had to take mountains of clothes home because of some college rule that I didn’t understand. I found myself making several trips to the parking lot, staggering under each load of clothes, fearful that I would lose some of the garments in the snow. My ankles were cold and wet, and the fierce wind and snow were tearing at my face.

As I struggled, the thought came to me that I was a wonderful dad to be helping Lynne in this way. My second thought was that lots of other dads were perched in front of the TV drinking beer or weren’t even around to assist their children. My third self-congratulatory thought was that I had been a great dad for a long time, as we had previously trekked over to Kent State during the five years our oldest son was studying architecture. My wife and I had also put ourselves out for our other two children and our young grandchildren as well. Not bad for a sixty-three-year-old dad who had once been a high school dropout!

It’s hard to pat yourself on the back while struggling through the snow with loads of clothing, though. And I had no sooner finished praising myself when some dark thoughts began to hit me. I thought about my own problems growing up during the Great American Depression, and the fact that my parents had neither the desire nor the means to send me to college. I lashed myself for my failure to take advantage of the GI Bill after World War II, which gave veterans such as me a generous stipend for four years of college. I groaned inwardly at the way drinking had destroyed other educational opportunities. (I had finally received a college degree at age fifty, but that didn’t seem to be the same as getting one at twenty-two. I didn’t even recall that my father had sent me congratulations and the price of a new watch when I finally got my degree.)

As I continued to let these angry thoughts seethe in my soul, my mood became darker and darker. I was feeling really bad, and there were still mountains of clothes and other items to bring back to the car, which was now covered with snow. On top of that, we would have to drive back to Toledo under difficult road conditions. My gloom and self-pity deepened.

But then I returned to the dormitory and saw Lynne chatting with her friends and apparently enjoying all the benefits of college life. I suddenly started to feel grateful that she could have this experience and that she was making the best of it, as she had done earning honors in high school. I immediately felt grateful that AA had kept me sober for thirty-nine years so my income and my wife’s earnings could go for such things as tuition, books, and dental care, instead of booze and bad trips. I thought of all the other nice things and experiences our family had, all due to AA. And as my gratitude for this increased, the dark feelings and self-pity simply disappeared. This probably took all of one minute, but it worked. Snow or no snow, I suddenly felt great.

Because of road conditions, it took longer than usual to drive the 150 miles home to Toledo. But I felt pretty serene and happy all the way. If I still thought I was a great dad, it was only because Alcoholics Anonymous had helped me become what a dad should be. Gratitude works, if you work it!

Mel B .Toledo, Ohio