A Deeper Surrender

Step Eight – Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and become willing to make amends to them all.

By: B. B. | Longview, Washington

August 1993

Almost three years ago I moved from a relatively large urban area to a smaller town. At the time, I had just celebrated my second AA birthday and felt well grounded in the program. My sponsor told me that I would undoubtedly miss my AA friends and the meetings where I had gotten sober, but he knew that once I was settled in the AA program in my new community, everything would be fine.

The move went well and before long I had started my new job. I began to attend AA meetings in my new community, but found it very difficult to adjust. My new home was a mill town, and as a “professional” person I found it hard to relate to anybody I heard in the meetings I was attending. To make matters worse, I did encounter one gentleman in a meeting –himself a “professional” –who I thought would make a good sponsor. When I asked him and he declined I was crushed.

This began for me a rather long difficult period during which I attended meetings but didn’t commit myself to any friendships within the Fellowship. As soon as a meeting was over, I’d be the first one out of the door. My weekends were invariably spent in the nearest large city, where I used the hustle and bustle to distract me from the reality that I was becoming increasingly isolated and alone.

After about a year of this I finally reached my bottom. Following a community-wide AA event, I found myself walking out with the man whom I had asked to be my sponsor when I first moved to the area. As I shared about my many troubles –not the least of which was his refusal to sponsor me –I started crying as pent-up emotions spilled over. He listened attentively and then nonchalantly suggested that I ask him again to be my sponsor. I thought this was nervy –he ought to be asking me –but I complied. He agreed to sponsor me, but wanted me to start working the Steps all over again. I was, of course, insulted.

Like it or not, I was going through the Steps one more time, just to satisfy my new sponsor, one of the last of the great Big Book thumpers. After a period of time, as I adjusted to his style of sponsorship, I got more comfortable. All went well until one day, as we sat in a local coffee shop discussing my Eighth Step amends list. As he scanned the names –almost all of whom were colleagues where I worked –he suggested that doing my Ninth Step with these people would involve telling them that my amends was part of a program of recovery from alcoholism. It was now that I learned the true meaning of the words “aghast” and “thunderstruck.” I was speechless. How could I possibly share the fact that I was a recovering alcoholic with people who worked under me? Word about the fact that I was an “alkie” would spread all over work. I was finished. My sponsor left me sitting in the coffee shop to stew in my juices.

It was several days of sheer agony before I began to recover my wits and discover, for myself, that I would have to go through with making my Ninth Step amends as my sponsor suggested or risk drinking again. There was no escape. And so finally, late one afternoon, I made my way to my boss’s office. I had decided that I should share this dark deep secret first with him before word reached him from another source once I started my amends-making. To my astonishment, he was warm, understanding, and sympathetic. I left his office feeling several tons lighter, and the way was cleared for me to make all the amends I needed to make.

My first sponsor used to say that to survive in the AA program, you had to continue to surrender at deeper and deeper levels. I certainly understood that intellectually. But it’s only through day-to-day living that I’ve really come to appreciate what that means. The surrender process was essential for me when I finally took my First Step; it’s equally indispensable to me now as I learn a little more each day about how I can live comfortably in my own skin.