I’m listening to an excellent story from the AA Grapevine, but all it has done is remind me of what I will do every time—”Why did you do it?”

Possibly a question outside the tenets of AA and “Keep Coming Back.” Certainly! Never stay behind. I will carry you if necessary. I would drag you if I could. Tradition One tells me “Our common welfare should come first; personal recovery depends upon A.A. unity” (AAWS, 2001). Listen, this is a program of attraction, and not promotion. I am putting aside if I give to you, I get to stay sober. No. That’s promoting that if I help—transaction—I get to stay sober. That’s not my mindset. My mindset sounds more like “I will stay sober by helping you because it is no longer in my nature to wonder what I will get out of this. It’s more along the lines of I know what it feels like, I see you this way, I live something much different than you right now or so it seems, and it may not always be that I want you in this too—another transaction; maybe, just maybe, it’s that I see you, you are asking for help, or maybe you’re not, but you’re not safe, let me at least take you somewhere that can keep you safe until you wake up.

That was me going off on a tangent, completely, but the initial reminder was asking “why.” “I relapsed.” “Okay. Why did you do it?” It’s a slippery slope. It’s challenging. It’s what almost no alcoholic is willing to answer, and it’s usually because of “testing me,” “doubting me,” “demanding from me,” “mind your own business,” or “because I felt like it.” That’s wonderful, and while the concept of “I am only asking why” may not be understood or stick as peaceful and caring, I would still, somehow, in some way, at some point, ask. This is why I don’t work for everyone. This is also why I need to be contextually sensitive. Can I ask anyone that? No. Have I? Yes. Did that person like it? No. It wasn’t Sponsor-to-Sponsee. It was just at a meeting.

In the end, Sponsorship is a conversation. It’s not “tell me your life.” It is these are the steps, this is how they are done, now are you ready to start doing them? Yes? No? When? Tomorrow? Why not today? Do you know that I have no intention of understanding your reasons? I do, though, think that you should know your own reasons. Not to beat alcoholism because you won’t be able to. Think of alcoholism like the unconscious part of your mind, not your brain, that’s even more complex, your mind, that you barely have access to, you will never understand consciously, and so your own thinking will lead you into the deepest of holes. The moment you think you understand it, you will lose control of it. It’s vast, it’s confusing, and it’s not going to let you see it —you’re not supposed to. Many things exist in nature that, while they are a part of nature, are not meant for everyone. Prime example, the belladonna flower. The angel’s trumpet. Things made legal today, and things unknown, needing control from the start. All natural. Some deadly. Others a very slow suicide.

So, back to my question: why am I not okay for everyone? Because I’m not a nice person. I will drag you. I will carry you. Maybe you won’t like me. Maybe you will. In the end, simply put, I am willing to challenge you. Fire me. I have done it. It was my path, I will not hold it against you, and I hope you don’t hold anything against me. You know why I tell you that? Because resentments are shackles, and I think you should feel freedom. I believe freedom to smile, to laugh, to cry, to love, to live.

Life is beautiful. We make it difficult “at no fault of our own.” See that? That’s why we will not understand it, but we get better. We get better, not at understanding, but at stepping away and living in peace. I chose to live in love. I refuse otherwise. Is it easy? Sometimes. Do I practice it? Always. If it were so easy, then it would not feel as magical as it does. I live in love and live for magic. I hope you someday choose to live in what fills your heart and makes you feel whole.

Lily M. 5/24/2014

P.S. I am loyal, faithful, patient, and believe in good things. I believe; it’s as simple as that. Rarely a hugger. This is how I share a “hug:” come, sit with me. On the floor. Lean against the wall. Let’s talk. Let me listen. So. I rarely hug. I’d rather you feel good, feel safe, feel free—even if just for an instant.