I am convinced that the book Alcoholics Anonymous is correct when it says that “Selfishness—self-centeredness! That, we think, is the root of our troubles.” Selfishness is a spiritual malady, a spiritual problem rooted deeply in my being. I consider or evaluate everything by how it affects me. My fears are self-centered. A lot can be written about selfishness. It is enough to say that it is what causes my problems.

Early in my recovery I fell in with a group of sexaholics who considered their home group to be North Hollywood on Friday nights. They hammered it into my consciousness that I was selfish. They wouldn’t let me leave a meeting without talking to the newcomer. If I approached one of them after a meeting they would deflect me to talk to someone who was new or was feeling the foundations of his recovery were not going to withstand the problems he faces. The watchwords were from There Is A Solution in the book Alcoholics Anonymous, “Our very lives, as ex-problem drinkers, depend upon our constant thought of others and how we may help meet their needs.”

My life depends on my consideration of others. It is not a mild suggestion. My life depends on it. If I live in selfishness I will lose my life, the life God gives to recovering addicts. It is not a once in a while effort. I have to constantly think about others. It will cost me. In thirty years I have probably turned off my phone twice so I could sleep without interruption. One of those nights a friend couldn’t reach me and he lost his sobriety. I didn’t cause him to act out. I can’t keep anyone sober. However, I was not thinking of him when I shut off my phone. I take calls if it is humanly possible. If someone asks for help I will give him what I can. When someone shares in a meeting that he is desperate, I stop the meeting and ask what we can do to help or suggest something the members can do to help the one who is sinking.

I call people whom I have not seen in meetings lately. I have been told not to chase people who seem to be walking away from the program. I pray for them and sometimes reach out to them. I was at the birthday celebration for a member of another program. He was an odd, but lovable older guy. He shared that when he noticed that someone had been absent from a meeting for a while he would begin praying for that person. I want to be like that man. He was an example of love and concern for others.

I have spent time riding bikes into the mountains with guys in the program. I have taught them how to use power tools and to repair their cars. I have helped them remodel homes. I have visited them in hospitals. I helped care for a member as he died. No level of service in the program can take the place of caring for another member. Being a trustee, an international speaker or having enough sobriety to impress people never replaces passing the message to fellow sufferers.

Bill Wilson wrote in Bill’s Story that he experienced “a sense of victory, followed by such a peace and serenity as I had never known. There was utter confidence. I felt lifted up, as though the great clean wind of a mountain top blew through and through.” He was describing the impact God had on him which he went on to say was sudden and profound. On the next page he wrote that he was plagued by waves of self-pity and resentment, and that he felt close to drinking. Pink cloud to utter despair. He was flying high then despondent. He wrote that he “… soon found that when all other measures failed, work with another alcoholic would save the day.”

I need to think of others. I prayed that I could speak to a newcomer as I was driving to a meeting. I have asked God to keep me sober for others’ sake. My sponsor tells me acting out is the most selfish thing I can do. After a meeting I try not to gravitate towards old friends, but rather seek out someone who is new or is hurting, maybe someone who is lost. I try to think of who I could call to encourage.

In short, my life depends on being of service to others.