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.
