Step Ten

 

 

 

Step Ten: Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.

Ever noticed how many of the 12 Steps have two distinct, equally important parts to them? Step 1 sets the tone for these two part examinations. It took me awhile to grasp the concept of being “powerless” over alcohol.

 

It took more time and more work to process an equally huge concept of Step 1: the “unmanageability” of my life. And then to actually connect the two halves as unmistakably related.

Step 10 is, for me, a similar deal. It’s taken some time and reflection to see that the two parts of the sentence are not only connected, but causally related. You have to do the personal inventory to be able to see your part to be able to promptly admit you were wrong.

Of course! Now I get it!

 

For me, the second half of Step 10 came First The words"wrong" and “admitted” blared out like flashing neon signs, demanding attention.

 

Wrong? Me? I was never wrong! I might not always be right, but I was surely never wrong! I’d spent my entire life blaming others for my plight. I mean, of course there was something “wrong” with me, which I now recognize as the disease of alcoholism.

But I never identified my thoughts or actions as “wrong.” If I could just get everyone else to treat me the way they were supposed to (shades of Step 3 in there, I know), everything would be fine. If only people understood me better.

 

Not that that was my problem, of course. They were the ones at fault. Stupid other people; no wonder I drank!

Step 10’s suggestion of taking inventory helped me put some bad behavior into perspective. I realized that I was a champion inventory taker from way back.

My inventories were all external; rarely including any positives, because the word gratitude was not in my vocabulary.

Oh yes. There was plenty wrong with the world. And I was oh so good at pointing that out.

In order to feel superior (or even equal) to others, I had to cut them down to size. Some of my inventorying was, to my mind, well intentioned. I seemed to surround myself with people who were damaged and in need of fixing.

 

I had a knack for finding friends, mates, workplaces and social groups that were imperfect -just waiting for my personal touch to be transformed to full functionality.

 

I could look at any person or situation and fashion an idealized version with ease. From my bar stool perch, I made grandiose plans to make the world around me perfect. Being insightful, intuitive, and very determined, I repeated this ill conceived process over and over and over. (I think they call that insanity, and it’s addressed in Step 2.)In reality, I stepped on a lot of people’s toes. And, just like they say in the “Big Book,” they retaliated. Needless to say, the idea that I might somehow be at fault never crossed my mind. Yes, victimhood suited me well.

 

That is, until I came into AA.

Not surprisingly, it was a fearless and thorough moral inventory that changed my attitude. I suddenly saw that I was not being persecuted. I did have a part. Every single thing that bothered me out there had its genesis inside my head.

My own misperceptions were to blame. Dare I say it? I had actually had been WRONG, as well as wronged! Now that the light bulb has been turned on, I recognize my effect on others, not just their effect on me. I know when I am in the wrong. It doesn’t feel good. It feels icky.

Wrong is a new name for an old familiar feeling. It’s that state I used to cultivate like a toxic garden of weeds, liberally watered with wine, beer or whisky. Given just an inkling of justification, I could whip myself up into a right frenzy of indignation. And stay there for days.

The more wrong I could make others, the more right I became in my head.

Stupid me; no wonder I was lonely!

Now, I can short circuit that whole process. The big relief of Step 10 is the tool of making amends. Resentments no longer fester for weeks.

 My tolerance for “wrong headedness” is much lower. My awareness of my part in problems is much higher. It doesn’t feel good to wallow anymore.

AA has taught me to keep my own side of the street clean. Step 10 makes that a daily occurrence.

So today, if something is nagging at my conscience, I have a way to process it. Instead of jumping immediately into defensive mode, I look for my part and act quickly to clear it up.

Even if I didn’t start it, even if the other person’s behavior was worse than mine, that doesn’t matter. It’s my responsibility to make the amends.

And there’s a reward for doing so:

I get to stay sober! The world around me feels more hospitable, too.