A horse walks into a Bar…
Bartender: looks at the horse and says: “Why the long face, are you depressed or something?”
Horse: In reply says, “No, I don’t think I am.” and promptly disappears.
Amateur Student of Philosophy:
There exists a school of thought that there is no such thing as a truly selfless act. Even more bold a claim, is that no person can truly be selfless. According to Google, this theoretical stance on human behavior is credited to psychologist Dr. Bill Crawford. Now nothing against Dr. Crawford, but I seem to remember this assertion coming from a scholar that predates him by a couple of centuries. Don’t bother asking me which philosopher I think deserves credit, because I’ll be honest with you, I cannot seem to remember for the life of me.
Just believe me when I say, as a tween/teenager, I would often lose myself in the depths of the Penguin Publishing Company’s Little Black Classics philosophy set. Honestly, it started out as an innocent curiosity and quickly became an almost unhealthy obsession. From the thoughts of Marcus Aurelius’ Friedrich Nietzsche, Renes Descartes, to the moral and ethical assertions of Pluto, Socrates, Aristotle, and Immanuel Kant, any existential crisis I could ever face after the age of 12 could be deemed to be entirely self-inflicted by own nerdom.
In any case, I have about a million different thoughts, perspectives, and frames of reference with which to interrogate myself daily. I am always thinking, overthinking, considering, debating, and so on and so forth forever and ever, amen. With that being said, if you’re easily disturbed by abstract conceptions of life’s meaning, or the debatable purpose or perhaps questionable existence of life as we know it, consider yourself warned… My brain is an absolute chaos machine, and I’ve been told that sharing is caring (you’re welcome.)
A Call to Action:
If you’ve been hanging out with us on the blog for a while, you know that I have been able to “achieve” my sobriety through the 12-step program of Alcoholics Anonymous. For reasons unbeknownst to even me, whenever I feel as though I have what could be perceived as a dissenting opinion or inquiry, I qualify them with a disclaimer that it is not my intention to undermine or discourage the program itself. Consider the disclaimer proclaimed in this scenario as well. My “dissenting opinion” if one could call it that, stems not from the program this time, rather it lies with the implementation and associated connotations of the 12th step specifically. As always, I will elaborate further if you’re interested.
The 12th step, as it’s laid out in AA, states: “Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these Steps, we tried to carry this message to alcoholics, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.” Simple and fair enough if you ask me. Of course, there are a variety of interpretations that can be applied to the step, but there is nothing of note that puzzles me specifically.
Breaking it Down:
A quick breakdown, if you will, of the step, as I understand it. “Spiritual Awakening” can mean whatever you want it to mean as far as I am concerned. Some say it’s a manifestation of self-actualization, and others say its contact with the divineo. Still, other’s refer to it as a zen type of state in which everything just makes sense after a while. Whatever makes you happy, I have no relevant opinion on the matter.
In reference to the “carry this message…” section of the step, I feel as though it’s straight forward; share the good news, walk-the-walk, talk-the-talk, lead by example, etc. Last but not least “practice these principles in all of our affairs”, that’s where things can get a little dicey. Alas, I’ll save that dissection for another post. If you’re curious though, for me that means exactly what it says; everything I’ve learned about myself, my behaviors, my actions, and the world around me should be applied to the best of my abilities in every aspect of my life. In any case, the challenge proposed in step 12, as it is written, I have no quarrels.
Language and Interpretation:
Generally speaking, humans are complicated people. It’s been said many a time before that, alcoholics, are an especially complicated group. Take language and linguistics for example. In the English language alone, there are about 150 different dialects. Depending on where you are geographically the English language varies greatly.
A simple word or phrase in English can mean one thing here in South Georgia and mean something else entirely in the United Kingdom. Of course, there is a “standard definition” or broadly accepted meaning of most words and phrases, but due to various cultural, ethnic, and social differences, local colloquialisms determine how something should be interpreted, regardless of the literal denotation. This phenomenon is not limited to national, ethnic, or geographic boundaries, however, but frequently appears within specific subcultures. AA is no exception to this rule, here’s how:
The meaning of life (or lack thereof depending on your own personal philosophy) can be interpreted contrarily within a single philosophical paradigm or theoretical framework. Naturally, the same can be true of the connotation and interpretation of the 12th step in the program of AA. Just a few short weeks ago, I was in a meeting where the topic (surprise, surprise) alluded to the 12th step.
Not to sound smug, but typically at this point in my sobriety, I am rarely stumped by a proposed meeting topic. That’s not to say that I know all there is to know about sobriety, the program, or recovery-related principles; it’s just that I have a general opinion or experience-informed take on most topics I’ve had the privilege of hearing discussed in meetings. Not this meeting though, and certainly not on this topic…
The Philosophy of the 12th Step:
The chairperson read from the appropriate date (August 26th) in the Daily Reflections book, an AA-approved piece of recovery literature that I have read all the way through, more than once. While I am sure that I have read the passage at least half a dozen times, in more than one location, a particular section of the reading really stood out to me that night. This passage is one that you may very well be acquainted with, but to save you from having to feverishly flip through pages later, I’ll include the passage below:
“Though they knew they must help other alcoholics if they would remain sober, that motive became secondary. It was transcended, by the happiness they found in giving themselves to others.”
-Alcoholics Anonymous p.159
The above sentiment is what we are “taught” in the program. We are encouraged and, in some ways, “duty-bound” to share with others what was so freely given to us. We are instructed that “in order to keep what we have, we must give it away,” and while I don’t inherently disagree with that theory, I believe in practice, it plays out a little bit differently for me.
If it can be said that I “carry the message” to anyone at any point in time, I wouldn’t say that I do it out of any type of obligation, sense of duty, or fear of losing my sobriety. I’ll even go as far as to say that I don’t do it because it makes me “feel good.” My philosophy on sobriety and carrying the message exists entirely outside of these conceptions.
“A Piece of the Pie” Philosophy on Sobriety:
The way I see it, carrying the message and sharing with others that which was freely given, goes along the same lines as my Gardens & Watering Cans post from last year; a testament to the fact that I can’t give away what I don’t have. I mean, correct me if I’m wrong, but I can only give, grant, or offer you something if I have the power, possession, or means to impart it upon you. I know, the whole “imparting” thing sounded way more arrogant and self-inflated than I meant for it to, but the fact remains, if I don’t have it, I can’t give it or share it with you. This is where my piece-of-the-pie philosophy on sobriety comes into play.
Imagine, if you will, that the message of sobriety is like a freshly baked pie. The recipe for said pie has been in your family (the program) for generations and is passed down to every new generation that enters the family.
Now the recipe has been written down, each of the ingredients listed carefully, and instructions for baking written clearly. But, everyone with any family recipe knows that the secret is not so much of what the dish, in this case, pie, is comprised of, but how and when the ingredients are added. Perhaps there’s even a secret ingredient, an extra dash of this, a pinch of that; nobody seems to have written it down, but because you’ve seen it made you know how, when, and what to do to make this pie.
A Question for Self:
For the sake of this analogy, let’s pretend obesity, diabetes, and calories don’t exist; because it’s so important to you and you love this pie, you bake a fresh pie for yourself every day. Realistically, you’re not going to finish a whole pie every day, but that doesn’t matter. You still bake a new, fresh pie every 24 hours anyway. You’ve been doing this ever since you inherited the recipe. Needless to say, there’s a lot of pie at your house, a lot of routinely uneaten pie, and more pie is always on its way the following day. You following me so far?
Let’s just say that one day, as you’re walking to the grocery to stock up on more ingredients for your pie you see a person who is obviously malnourished and could use a bite to eat. Perhaps you’re even sitting at home, there’s a knock on the door, and you open it to find a long-lost relative who’s down on their luck and hasn’t eaten in quite some time. You think back to your kitchen and remember the copious amounts of pie that you’ll never be able to eat by yourself. So here you are in front of this person who is terribly hungry, and you’ve got enough pie to feed yourself and a small village of people. What is your next move?
Checkmate:
I won’t speak for anyone else, nor try to assume what course of action you yourself would take in the above-mentioned scenario. For me, however, I have a pretty good idea of what I would do. It’s much like a game of chess, if you’re familiar with the game, and have played a good bit, you’re not much going to like the dim-witted inclusion of this analogy, I digress.
In a very loose use of the phrase, if I have plenty of pie (sobriety) and I cross paths with someone who has not even a crumb, I’m in a checkmate situation. Checkmate in this situation means I see no other course of action and as such the pie I have is surrendered to your possession. Now unlike chess, I am not forced, obligated, or without choice in this move. Quite honestly, I view it more as a natural course of action. If I have some, and you don’t, and I have plenty more than enough for myself…. Why wouldn’t I share that with you?
Applications of Philosophy on Sobriety:
Listen, I am entirely aware of how jumbled, scattered, and abstract this whole post has been. My thoughts aren’t always linear or easily articulated, but hopefully, I’ve done an adequate job of getting my point across.
The bottom line is, like the pie, or the recipe for it; when it comes to sobriety, I simply happened across it. I was in the right place at the right time and did nothing of note to deserve acquiring it. Any “carrying of the message” I do, any experience, strength, or hope I share is not done out of obligation or any sense of duty.
Perhaps it should be, but for me, it really has little, if anything, to do with it. I share what I share, and do what I do because, when it comes to my recovery or any benefits reaped from sobriety, I hold a surplus. An excess that I could never possibly exhaust even if I tried, and I have more than I could ever ask for. So, if you want some of what I have, by all means, come get it. There’s plenty enough pie for everyone, and if and/or when you’re ready to start baking your own, I’ll show you how it was shown to me, and that my friends, is my philosophy on sobriety.
P.S.
Oh, and as for the joke at the beginning… (it’s a philosophy joke)
A horse walks into a Bar…
Bartender: looks at the horse and says: “why the long face, are you depressed or something?”
Horse: In reply says, “No, I don’t think I am.” and promptly disappears.
…
You see, this is a joke about Rene Descartes’ famous statement “I think, therefore I am” and while I could have mentioned this at the start of the joke, that would have put Descartes before the horse… **baddum tsss**
