IN THE CURRENT MAGAZINE

I would like to share how the program has given me the gift of lowering the volume of my fears. I cannot say that they are totally gone, but today I can live with them. I used to wake up in the morning with a feeling of dread when facing the day. The day scared me: the responsibilities, the fear of disappointing, the fear of surprises.

For me this is a Program of action. I use a handful of coins with newcomers as a tool to explain Steps 1 through 3.

As I sit here in meditation, it is dawning on me the biggest threat lust has on me is it takes the cord of my soul and plugs it into myself, as the White Book suggests. It is absolutely impossible for me to be truly present for my wife, my kids, and real-life significant relationships.

As with a lot of things in the Program, I grew into sponsorship. First, I had to learn to be a good sponsee and work my own program well. Then when I began sponsoring, I learned from my sponsees. Here is what I have learned so far.

Motivation is fleeting, Despair is seeping, Slowly I’m sinking into myself.

The ancient Japanese art of Kintsugi incorporates mixing of gold or silver dust with lacquer to join broken pieces of pottery or ceramics together. Not only is there no attempt to hide the damage, but the respair is literally illuminated and the repaired object becomes more valuable than the original.

The last two weeks have been a huge opportunity for me to grow along spiritual lines. As always, if I just look, I can see how everything is interconnected, and teaching me new spiritual lessons.

I believe the SA newcomer has three levels of disturbance: temptation, obsession, and compulsion. The last level, compulsion, has to be broken first. This is done by the newcomer following every suggestion of the sponsor. When a sponsor suggests an action, I immediately face a decision: follow the sponsor’s suggestion or do what I want to do.

In my experience, I see sobriety as a calm lake that reflects a blue sky, without clouds, without anxiety. I remember that when I had a relapse it was as if someone (myself) had thrown an immense rock and the waters on the surface of the lake were shaking, leaving my mind, my sensations, confused and altered, with anxiety to consume more and more.

My disease destroyed the relationship between my father and me. He was a dominant alcoholic, disapproving of everything I did. Phone calls with my father ended with me throwing my phone to pieces against the wall. I believed this was a reasonable reaction for someone with a father like I had. I always acted out after calling him. My resentment against my father was fuel for my sexaholism.